Transformations
by jncar
Summary: Remus and Tonks are finally a couple. What more could prevent their happily ever after? Busy schedules, moody friends, family conflicts, old secrets, Death Eater plots and a mystery that draws them both into the complex werewolf subculture, that's what.
1. Chapter 1:Girl Talk

_Author's Notes: _I owe a great deal of thanks to my wonderful beta reader Shimotsuki for all her help and advice. This story picks up right where my story "Marauders Redux" left off, but I worked hard to make sure that no prior reading in this fic-universe is necessary to enjoy and understand "Transformations." But anyone interested in going back to the earlier stories can find them on my author page.

Chapter 1: Girl Talk

Tonks was flying. Soaring over the brilliant green of an unknown Quidditch pitch, her bat held at the ready in her right hand. Which made no sense, of course, because she hadn't played Quidditch in more than a year. And her Quidditch robes were purple, but she had never played for a team that wore purple.

Sirius soared by on his broom—only it wasn't the Sirius that she was used to. This Sirius was blond and blue-eyed. Since when was he blond? _Since Bill and I brewed him that Polyjuice Potion for his birthday. But we weren't taking him to play Quidditch—we were taking him to a Weird Sisters' concert._

A yellow-robed Chaser surged past her and passed the Quaffle to one of his team mates. With a start she realized that her opponents were both members of the Weird Sisters. _Oh—I must be dreaming. That explains things._

She looked around for her teammates. There was Bill, and just beyond him was Fleur defending the goals. And Sirius was still zipping around, trying to intercept the Quaffle. But someone was missing. Where was Remus?

For her at least, Remus had been just as much the point of their illicit trip to the concert as Sirius had been. She had been determined to find out once and for all whether or not all of his flirting really meant he was as interested in her as she was in him.

And she still wasn't sure. Yes, he had continued to flirt with her. But he also temporarily abandoned her with a group of her old school chums, and allowed her to be pursued by a vulgar Quidditch player without coming to her rescue.

But then he danced with her. And held her close. And ran his fingers through her hair. And said the most beautiful things. And for a while, she thought he might even kiss her. But Sirius had interrupted right at the crucial moment and ruined everything. Damn him!

And now she was dreaming about Quidditch and Remus was nowhere to be seen.

She urged her broom forward to chase a stray Bludger, and swung hard at it with her bat. The hit was good, and the Bludger barreled toward another yellow-clad Weird Sister. Suddenly two other players shot past her head. She looked up at them. It was Remus! He and Myron Wagtail were chasing the Golden Snitch!

A glance to her side showed her that the two Weird Sisters' Beaters were batting the Bludger back and forth, and seemed to be setting up a shot to send the thing flying right at Remus.

"Watch out for the damn Bludger!" she cried after him.

He looked over his shoulder and swerved just in the nick of time as the Bludger went soaring past him in a narrow miss.

Tonks breathed deeply in relief. That would have been a very hard hit—it could have knocked him from his broom!

Remus made a u-turn and pulled his broom up alongside hers. "Thank you!" he said with a brilliant smile. "I appreciate your help."

"You can have my help anytime you want it," she replied.

"Oh good. I've been meaning to ask you for some help with a little problem I've been having."

"What sort of problem?"

"This," he said, pushing up the sleeve of his robes and holding out his arm. The small freckles dotting his arm were all a brilliant shade of green.

She blinked in surprise as they suddenly changed to pink, and then to orange, and then back to green.

"I can't seem to make them stop," he said. "Do you think it's some kind of spontaneous morphing? Is there such a thing as adult-onset metamorphmagus talents?"

Tonks shook her head. "I don't know. But is this really the best time to be talking about this? We're in the middle of a match."

Remus shrugged. "You said you would help me."

"I didn't mean right now." A tiny golden glint caught her eye. "The Snitch!" She pointed.

Remus held out his arm in front of her again and waved it. "My freckles!"

"Get the Snitch, you idiot!"

"Not until you help me with my freckles!"

"Ugh!" she grunted in disgust. She turned and urged her broom after the Snitch. She would just have to catch it herself.

"Nymphadora!" Remus called after her. She ignored him, and continued to zoom after the Snitch.

Then his voice sounded again, this time right in her ear. "Nymphadora…Nymphadora…"

She jerked, opened her eyes, and took a sharp breath. As the room came into focus, she realized that she was lying on a sofa, with her head in someone's lap.

"What? What?" she said, shaking the sleep from her head. She stared upward, and saw Remus looking right down at her with a smile on his face. _Oh, Merlin! Why the hell was I sleeping with my head in Remus's lap?_

"Remus? What are you…? Where are we?" she asked.

"We fell asleep in the parlor, remember?" he prompted, still smiling at her.

"Oh… yeah. Sirius and his damned bottle of wine." He had insisted on pulling a bottle of the good wine out of his cellar after they got back from the concert, and for some reason she let him talk her into a glass even though she was already more than a little drunk. _Lord, my mouth tastes horrible. _

She struggled to sit up. A sharp pain shot through her forehead, right between her eyes. "Oh God, my head!" she said, covering her eyes with one hand, and bracing herself up with the other. "I am never going drinking with Sirius again!" _And I still have no idea how I ended up asleep in Remus's lap. Just how drunk did I get?_

"How about I go down to the kitchen and make us a pot of strong black coffee?" suggested Remus.

"Yes, please." She rubbed her head again. The pain was receding slightly. _Coffee? Is it morning already?_

As he stood, she asked, "What time is it, anyway?"

"It's about half-past eleven."

She gasped in alarm. He couldn't be right. "No! You're kidding me!"

"The clock's right there." He pointed.

She looked over at the clock. It confirmed her worst fears. "Oh no, no, no, no, noooo!" she moaned, putting her face in her hands.

"What is it? Have you missed something important?"

"Not yet," she said. "But I almost wish I had. I've got a twelve-thirty lunch appointment with my mum. She wants to take me shopping in Diagon Alley. If I'd slept through it I'd just have to apologize, but since I'm already awake, I feel obliged to rush and actually get there on time. Uhhg!" The last thing she wanted right now was to see her mum. What she did want was a few more hours of sleep, a hangover remedy, and a toothbrush. Not to mention a chance to figure out just how she ended up passing out on Remus's lap.

"Can't you just skip it, and tell her later that you slept through it?"

She shook her head violently. "Oh no. I can't lie to my mum—ever. She can always tell. It's this awful sixth sense she has." She couldn't even count the number of times her mum had seen right through whatever elaborate and well-constructed lie she had thought of. It was uncanny.

"But you must lie to her all the time about the Order."

"No," she said honestly. "I've told her enough of the truth to keep her satisfied. But I think she's beginning to have her suspicions about Sirius being involved—she just hasn't confronted me about it yet. Sometimes she'll let me get away with holding back part of the truth—but I can never get away with an outright lie. Never. Ooof!" She hauled herself to her feet. "I really have to get going."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay long enough for me to make some coffee?" Remus asked as she stumbled to the table where she had left her jacket and pulled it on.

"Can't spare the time." She picked up her bag. "My mum's always been very strict about punctuality, and the last thing I need today is one of her lectures. Which means I have about…" She glanced at the clock again. "…fifty minutes to shower and primp and get to Diagon Alley for our lunch together." She nearly tripped on Sirius, who was curled up on a rug, snoring. _At least I wasn't as drunk as him!_

"It'll only take five minutes—I promise. You really look like you need some caffeine." Why was Remus being so insistent this morning? What was going on?

"Do I really look _that_ hungover?" she asked, glancing in the nearby mirror. She gasped in surprise and raised a hand to touch the limp tendrils of mousey-brown hair flopping shapelessly against her neck.

"My God!" she uttered. "I _really_ must have been drunk to let it go back to _this_!" She'd taken great pains to make sure Remus never saw her like this, and now it was all ruined. No wonder he was so worried. She looked like the living dead.

"Nymphadora?" asked Remus. "Is this … how should I put this? Is this your… original hair? The hair you were born with?"

She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "Unfortunately, yes." She turned away from the mirror. "Is it any wonder that I avoid going brunette, when this," she pointed at the brown hair, "is what I have to look at every time I'm exhausted, or sick, or drunk? It's hideous."

"It's not hideous." He was very good at looking sincere, even when she knew he couldn't possibly mean it.

"Yes, it is!" She strode out of the room and down the hall toward the front entrance. "If Mum sees me like this she'll know for sure that I was up to no good last night. I really, really need that shower."

She bit her bottom lip, and fumbled with the buttons of jacket. She must have been horribly pissed last night, and did who knew what in front of Remus before passing out on him. And now she woke up looking and smelling like an inferius. What must he think of her after this? All she wanted was to escape. She reached the front door, and noticed that she'd missed a button and fastened her jacket all wrong. _Damn! But it would be too obvious to fix it now._ She took a deep breath, and started the lengthy process of unlatching the door. As she opened it to step outside, she said over her shoulder, "See ya later, Remus."

"Wait," he said urgently, grabbing one of her wrists.

"Hey!" She was shocked by his sudden movement. "What is wrong with you this morning?"

Remus's expression was unfathomable. "It's just … I just…" He paused.

Then, with another swift movement, he reached forward, took her face in his free hand, and kissed her.

Her eyes widened, and an involuntary squeak emerged from her lips before she could stop it. He seemed surprised, and she was afraid he was about to pull away. _No! He can't stop now! We've only just started!_ She reached up to grab his neck with her free hand, and leaned into him, throwing herself enthusiastically into the kiss.

She'd wondered so many times over the past few months what it would be like to kiss Remus, and now it was actually happening. She felt dizzy and weak, like she was about to fall over.

Remus wrapped his arm around her waist, steadying her and pulling her tight against his body. She felt a heady rush of excitement surge through her as his lips moved eagerly against hers.

Far too soon, he broke off the kiss and pulled back to look down at her. He looked flushed, and a boyish smile danced on his lips. Tonks took a few deep breaths to clear her head. She still felt weak, and unstable. She was glad to have his arms around her.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She smiled, and giggled nervously. "Yeah."

"Are you sure you're well enough to Apparate?"

"Apparate?" Where would she want to go, when she could stay here in his arms? "Why would I want to App… Oh shit! Lunch with Mum! I can't believe I still have to go to lunch with Mum. And now I'm going to be late for certain!" The last thing she wanted right now was to have to face her mother.

"It's all right, Nymphadora. Just take your time. A little lecture on punctuality never killed anyone. Just go and try to relax, and have a good afternoon with your mother."

She nodded slowly, releasing her grip on his shoulder. So he wanted her to go. Or did he? "When can I … when should I… can I come back tonight?" she asked.

The eager brightness in his eyes encouraged her, but his response wasn't quite what she had hoped. "Tonight," he said, "we should probably both get to sleep early. I think we both need it."

She began to slump with disappointment until he added, "But, I am very much looking forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!" She smiled again, standing up straighter. "Yes. Tomorrow. Tomorrow night! I can't make it over until tomorrow night. If that's okay with you?"

"Tomorrow night sounds excellent. I'll be waiting for you."

"Waiting." She giggled again. "Waiting for me. Lovely." _Merlin, I sound like a silly little girl. I really need some sleep. Ohhh…and I a can just imagine the wonderful dreams I'll have._

"I'll see you then," he said, slowly stepping back and carefully releasing her as if he was afraid that she would fall and hurt herself.

"See you—whoa!" As she stepped back from him she missed the step down from the door. He leapt forward and caught her shoulders before she hit the pavement.

"Clumsy oaf!" she exclaimed. "Me… not you!" _Why do I always have to do this in front of him? But at least I got to touch him again._

"Do you need me to walk you to the Apparition point?"

She shook her head in embarrassment. "No! No—really. I'm fine. Just wasn't watching, that's all. I'm fine. I'll see you tomorrow night. Bye!" She flicked him a short wave, and turned, taking a deep breath and straightening her back, to stride purposefully toward the nearby alley used by the Order for discreet Apparition. She was determined to quit the scene before she made even more of a fool of herself.

But fate and a stretch of uneven pavement was against her. She caught her foot on a rough patch, stumbled, and landed against the wall of the nearest house.

She closed her eyes and shook her head in amazement at the seeming boundlessness of her wretched clumsiness. She took a deep breath, and turned back with another wave. "I'm fine! Really. I'm fine. I'm just… going. Now." She scooted into the Alley, concentrated on the sitting room of her flat, and Apparated.

Her head was spinning when she reappeared in her flat, and she quickly looked over herself to make sure she hadn't splinched. Everything appeared to be intact, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She closed her eyes and gave herself a moment to think back over the events of the past quarter hour.

Apparently the answer to her burning question "Is Remus really interested in me?" was a resounding "Yes!"

She still didn't know quite what she did last night, but whatever it was, it must have worked. With a little smile on her face she began to hum a happy tune, and started shedding her clothes. It was time for that shower.

* * *

Andromeda Tonks sat at a table for two inside a small café on Diagon Alley, tapping her finger impatiently on the table and staring intently at the entry-door. As it opened, she caught her breath in anticipation, only to let it out in a frustrated huff as two older gentlemen entered. Where was that confounded daughter of hers? She had, as usual arrived five minutes early for her lunch appointment with Nymphadora. And, as usual, her daughter was running late—more than ten minutes late this time. That was five minutes later than usual.

Andromeda knew that Nymphadora considered her strict ideas of promptness to be silly, but this was pushing things a little too far. She took a sip of her tea, and perused the menu for what felt like the fiftieth time. Finally, only fourteen minutes after their agreed meeting time, Nymphadora walked into the café. She hastily made her way to Andromeda's table, and sat down with a graceless plop.

"Wotcher, Mum," she said. "Sorry I'm so late. I was tidying up the flat, and I completely lost track of time."

Andromeda winced at the ugly word that her daughter seemed to think passed for "hello," and took a hard look at the tousled carrot-orange hair, rumpled Holyhead Harpies t-shirt, and oversized green cardigan. She could hear Ted's voice in her head, telling her to let it go—just this once. But she couldn't quite do it. "We both know that's not true, Nymphadora."

Nymphadora rolled her eyes. "Fine. So I slept late. So what?"

Andromeda clenched her jaw, and listened to her inner-Ted tell her that after the row the two of them had two weeks ago when Nymphadora showed up at the charity auction with neon green hair, she wouldn't take kindly to another lecture right now. Andromeda took a few deep breaths through her nose, and slowly unclenched her jaw. The past few months had been a difficult but rewarding time because, for the first time in nearly eight years, she and her daughter were talking and visiting on a regular basis. She was determined not to ruin this new rapport over something insignificant. "It's all right, dear," she forced herself to say. "You work very hard, and I know that you need extra rest when you have time off."

"Yeah. Thanks," said Nymphadora, looking slightly surprised. Andromeda smiled. She always enjoyed catching her daughter off her guard.

Their waiter approached, and took their orders. After he collected their menus and left, Andromeda looked expectantly at her daughter. "So, how has your week gone?"

"It's gone well. It's gone well," said Nymphadora, toying with her spoon. Could the girl never sit still? "Nothing much exciting at work. Just the usual batch of dark wizard accusations to look into. I did catch one craggy old bloke trying to breed Acromantulas, but I had to turn the case over to the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures." She shrugged. "Other than that, it's just been the usual."

Andromeda couldn't help but smile at her daughter's casual description of her workday. Nymphadora was always casual about these things. "Your usual is everyone else's terrifying and intense."

Nymphadora smiled back at her mother. "You really have the wrong idea about my job, Mum. You seem to think I get in desperate battles every single day, when really it's only once or twice a month."

Andromeda chuckled. Her daughter's sense of humor was so much like Ted's that sometimes Andromeda felt like she could have the same conversation with either of them, and they would each give exactly the same responses. "So was it a desperate battle that kept you out late last night?" she asked.

Nymphadora lowered her eyes to the table, and bit her lip lightly, the way she always did when she was about to say something she knew Andromeda wouldn't like. "Last night wasn't business," she said. "Last night was fun."

"Did you have a date?" asked Andromeda eagerly. Although she knew that there were still plenty of witches and wizards her daughter's age who hadn't yet settled down, she couldn't help but remind herself daily that Nymphadora was already five years older than she had been when she was married, and was still very definitely single. She wanted her daughter to find someone she could be happy with, and she also very much wanted at least one grandchild.

Nymphadora shrugged. "I just went out with a few friends."

"Were some of those friends male?" asked Andromeda.

Nymphadora swirled her water around in her class. "They all were."

Andromeda's hopes sunk a little. Nymphadora had always been something of a tomboy, and her circle of friends still reflected that tendency. "Oh."

Nymphadora fidgeted a little more. In fact she was fidgeting quite a bit more than usual, which was saying a lot. Andromeda had always been very good at reading her daughter's body language. "Is one of those male friends someone that you might like to be more than just a friend?"

Nymphadora shrugged again. "Yeah. I'm pretty interested in him."

"And is he interested in you?" Unfortunately, at just that moment their waiter returned with their meals. Nymphadora was easily able to use the food as an excuse to deflect conversation in another direction. As they ate, they casually chatted about work and old family friends, and Granny Tonks's health.

"I don't know how you can stand to eat that," said Andromeda, pointing with her fork at Nymphadora's plate. They had both ordered curries; however Andromeda had ordered hers mild, and Nymphadora had ordered hers extra hot. "It's like pouring fire right down your throat. It'll burn up the lining of your stomach, you know."

Nymphadora shrugged again. That was a very annoying habit of hers. Andromeda would have to point it out to her sometime—but not today. Today she still wanted to find out more about this new man in her daughter's life. "I'll just have the blokes at St. Mungo's re-grow it for me," said Nymphadora.

Andromeda shook her head. "You and your father. I never cook anything spicy enough for him."

"Great minds think alike," said Nymphadora. "Or should it be, great tongues taste alike?" She popped another forkful of the curry into her mouth.

Andromeda smiled. "So where did you and your friends go last night?"

"A concert."

As much as Andromeda wished that her daughter meant a symphony, or perhaps a string quartet, she was certain that guitars, drums, and alcohol were far more likely. A sudden thought crossed her mind. "Was it that Weird Sisters concert?" she asked.

"Yes, actually, it was. I didn't know you kept up to date on their concert appearances."

"I don't," said Andromeda. "The _Prophet_ ran a piece about it this morning. It seems the concert was interrupted by a false alarm that nearly started a riot. Someone claims to have seen Sirius Black in the crowd. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"He'd be a fool to show his face at a crowded concert." Nymphadora looked down at her plate, and took another bite. She was being evasive again.

"Sirius always was a bit of a fool when it came to good parties," said Andromeda. They sat in silence for a moment. "When are you going to tell me the whole truth about Sirius, Nymphadora? I know you've seen him. You've probably even talked to him. I just want to know if he's all right. Please?"

They sat in silence for a long moment as Nymphadora finished chewing her bite, swallowed, and took a sip of water. Andromeda didn't really expect an answer, so she was shocked when Nymphadora looked back up and quietly said, "He's fine, Mum. You don't need to worry about him." Andromeda took a deep breath. This was the best confirmation she'd ever been able to get out of her daughter. She'd suspected for months that Nymphadora knew something about Sirius's whereabouts, and that, miraculously, she had come around to sharing Andromeda's long-standing conviction that Sirius was innocent. But prior to today all she'd gotten out of her were evasive non-answers.

"Thank you," she whispered. They sat in silence for a few moments longer. "Do you think...that I can see him?"

Nymphadora looked at her plate again. "Maybe. I'm not sure. I'll have to look into it."

"You mean you'll have to ask Dumbledore's permission."

Her daughter didn't answer, but she knew it was the truth. Eighteen years ago, Albus Dumbledore had asked Ted and herself to join a secret vigilante society that he had formed to fight He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named without the bureaucratic hindrances of the Ministry getting in the way. They had declined. The safety of their daughter, and of Ted's Muggle relatives, had been far too important to risk themselves like that. But she was certain that now, after Harry Potter's unexpected declaration that the Dark Lord had returned, Dumbledore had re-formed his society. And she was equally certain that her daughter and her fugitive cousin were a part of it.

"Very well then," she said. "You look into it. The sooner the better."

Nymphadora nodded.

They finished their food, in near-silence, and left the restaurant. "So," said Andromeda, trying to break the ice, "I thought we could stop by Gladrags and pick out something nice for your Aunt Cissy's Christmas party. You are coming, this year, aren't you?" Nymphadora had long ago refused to attend any event, or visit, or meal, or errand that brought her inside Malfoy Manor. But after getting her promotion to Junior Auror more than a year ago, her father had finally convinced her to start coming to the annual Malfoy Christmas party. She conceded that it would be good for her reputation. Last year she hadn't stayed for long—she just made a token appearance, had a drink or two, and then slipped out a side door. But at least she came. Andromeda was hoping for more this year.

"Yeah, I'm coming." Nymphadora sounded unenthusiastic but willing, which was as much as Andromeda could hope for. She was looking into the various shop windows as they passed. She had seemed distracted all during lunch, and her mind still didn't seem on the task at hand. Andromeda wondered just how late she was out last night.

"Good!" Andromeda said. "Cissy is always glad when the whole family can make it."

Nymphadora nodded disinterestedly. A few minutes later they had arrived at Gladrags. They went inside the shop, and started browsing through the racks of fancy dress robes. "This one's lovely," said Andromeda, holding up a deep purple robe embellished with lighter purple embroidery.

"It's nice," replied Nymphadora, barely glancing at the robe. Andromeda noticed that her daughter was fingering a glittery silver robe. She certainly hoped that was not what she wanted to buy for the Malfoys's party. Something like that would never do.

After a few more minutes of browsing, Andromeda pulled another robe off the rack. It was a tightly fitted deep green, with flowing skirts, a low neck line, and long loose sleeves of a translucent material. "What about this one? It's a beautiful color," she said.

Nymphadora looked at the robe, her eyes lighting up with excitement. It seemed that they had found something to agree on. Nymphadora walked over, and took the robe in her hands, fingering the soft material. "This fabric is wonderful. I really like this one."

"Why don't you try it on?" Andromeda led her to the changing room. A few minutes later, Nymphadora was decked out in the new robe.

She turned and swirled before the large mirror. "This is perfect," she said, smiling at herself. "And I have the perfect hair to go with it." With a small scrunch of her face, she morphed her short pink hair into a sleek auburn that hung around her jaw. "What you think?" she asked.

"You look stunning," said Andromeda. "It's just right for the occasion." And it was. She had rarely seen her daughter looking so lovely. "So shall I get it, then?"

Nymphadora quickly shook her head. "You don't have to pay for it, Mum," she said. "Junior Aurors make pretty good money. I can buy it myself."

"I still like to treat you once in a while," said Andromeda. "Please, indulge your old Mum for once?"

Nymphadora cracked her first genuine smile of the day. "Okay. Thank you." Andromeda felt a warm rush in her chest. This must be what it wass like for all her girlfriends who were always talking about fun outings with their daughters. It was nice to finally experience it.

As the sales assistance was boxing up the robe for them, Andromeda asked, "Do you think you would like to bring that friend of yours to the party this year?"

"Lord no," was her instant reply. "No offense, but I just don't think he would fit in there."

Andromeda knew better than to ask, but she had her own ways of figuring things out. "Well, maybe you could bring him to our New Year's party instead."

Nymphadora nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe. You tend to have a more open-minded crowd there."

Andromeda was beginning to suspect who this mysterious male friend might be. Last month Nymphadora had mentioned a Muggle-born healer with whom she had become friends—a charming and talented young man whom Andromeda had met on several occasions during her charity work at the hospital. Muggle-borns had never been popular at Malfoy Manor, but they were more than welcome in the Tonks household. It was very likely that he was the one she had been talking about. He seemed like a wonderful young man. The patients and other Healers were always saying good things about him. He was just the kind of man she had always wanted for her daughter. If Nymphadora didn't take the initiative, she might have to invite him to the New Year's party herself.

After they left the shop, Nymphadora turned to her mother. "Thank you for the new robe, and for lunch, Mum."

"It was my pleasure," replied Andromeda. "You know I've been so glad to do things like this with you again."

"Me too," said Nymphadora.

Andromeda felt that warm rush again. The lunch may not have started well, but all in all this was one of the nicest times she had had with her daughter in years. "Well then. I'll be seeing you in a week or two. And please…Don't forget to speak to Dumbledore for me, about… you know."

"I won't forget. I'll see you soon." And with that Nymphadora headed off toward the nearest Apparition point.

Andromeda smiled. Things still weren't wonderful between the two of them, but they were improving. Hopefully it would last.

* * *

Tonks collapsed onto her sofa when she returned to her flat. She tossed the robe box onto the sofa beside her and stared at it, wondering what Remus would think when he saw her in this robe.

Her mind had been spinning with thoughts of Remus during the whole outing with her mum. She was amazed that she had managed to make it through the whole thing without giving any of the details away. She wondered if she should go over to Grimmauld Place right now. No, that would seem too eager. It had taken her nearly six months to make _this_ much progress. She wasn't going to mess it up by getting obsessive and pushy now, right when things were finally getting started.

Logically, she knew she ought to go to sleep. She had work in the morning, and a very important appointment tomorrow night. But she knew her overactive imagination would never let her fall asleep. There was only one thing to do. It was time to go see Cory.

A few minutes later, she was standing on the doorstep of Cory's home. Cory answered her knock with a bright smile. "Tonks! What a wonderful surprise. Come in!" As always, Cory's home was a safe haven of normality to Tonks. She could smell a cake baking in the oven, and heard the racket of little Geoffrey banging on pots and pans in the kitchen. The two old friends sat down for a cup of tea. "I can tell by that look in your eyes that you've got some news for me," said Cory. "Can I assume that last night went well?"

"It was better than I ever could have expected," replied Tonks.

"Well, give me the details." Cory looked eagerly at her friend. Tonks took several minutes to recount all of the wild adventure of last night. Of course, she had to leave out the bits about Sirius, but that wasn't hard when she had plenty to tell Cory about Remus. She told her all about Remus's deliciously flirty attentions to her all evening long, and how every time it seemed like he might not be interested in her after all, he would suddenly do or say something wonderful that would send her heart pounding. She described the wonderful slow dances they shared, and the feeling of being in his arms. And finally, she repeated in detail all the heart melting things that he had said to her after the concert had ended.

"So did he kiss you?" asked Cory eagerly, plucking a sharp fork out of Geoffrey's hand before he could start scratching the furniture.

"No," said Tonks, pouting. "We just drank too much wine, and passed out on the sofa."

"No!" said Cory. "After all that, you just fell asleep?"

Tonks shrugged. "I'm afraid so." She tried to stay nonchalant, but she couldn't quite manage it. A silly smile cracked her face.

"Ohhh! I know that look! There's more to this story than you've told me, isn't there?" Cory quickly leaned over to take a fragile porcelain sugar-bowl away from Geoffrey.

"Yes," said Tonks, still grinning like a fool. "I'm getting to the best part—the part that still has my head spinning!"

"Let's hear it then!"

"This morning, when I woke up I was lying in his lap, all wrapped up in his arms. I looked like hell, and I was in a hurry to leave, but he didn't want me to leave. And on my way out, he grabbed my arm, and pulled me into his arms, and kissed me. Oh, Merlin, it was wonderful."

Cory squeed in delight. "Oh Tonks! That's wonderful! He does like you! He more than likes you. He'd have to be positively smitten to kiss you first thing in the morning after a night of drinking. I've seen you like that, and you are not a very kissable sight."

"Cory!" Tonks exclaimed in indignation.

"I only speak the truth, love."

Tonks rolled her eyes, and pulled Cory's wand out of the clutches of the passing Geoffrey. "Maybe you're right," she said, with a dreamy smile. "Maybe he is smitten. I can hardly believe it's actually happening. I mean, I knew from the start it was a long-shot to try to win him over. After all, he's been living like a monk for the past decade—by his own choice. It really was ridiculous of me to even think that he would consider being more than friends. But I was just so completely infatuated with him. And now somehow, I've actually done it." Tonks could feel her heart speeding up again with the memory of his lips moving against hers, and his strong arms holding her close.

Cory sighed, and had a dreamy look in her eyes. "That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard."

"I think it's pretty damn great, but the most romantic thing you've ever heard?"

"Of course! Just think about it—more than a decade ago, in heartbreak and dejection, he gave up on romance to live a life of solitude. But now, re-energized with hope, he is emerging from that prison of self-denial just to be with you." She sighed. "And if he's really as dreamy as you say he is, I'm sure he's had other opportunities. He just passed them up. He waited for you. It's so beautiful, I almost want to cry. It makes marrying my school sweetheart sound downright hum drum."

Tonks laughed. "You read far too many romance novels."

"Probably, but that doesn't make me wrong."

Tonks stared out the window, her thoughts dancing. "You know—you might be right. The way you said it, it really is one of the most romantic stories I've ever heard. And I'm the star! Who would've thought it?"

"I would," said Cory. "I always knew you were destined for a life of drama and adventure."

Tonks rolled her eyes again. "You're not just reading too many novels, you're spending too much time looking into that crystal ball of yours."

"I haven't looked at that old thing in months. It's just so obvious, Tonks. It's practically written on your face."

Tonks smiled indulgently. Cory came from a family riddled with seers, and nearly all of them fancied they could tell something of other people's destinies. Her otherwise common sense friend was no exception. "Right now," said Tonks, "I don't care one thing about drama and adventure. I just want another good snog with the bloke I've fancied for the last half-year."

"Now that," said Cory, "is something we agree on. You've needed a good snog for ages. It's about time you got one."

Both of the friends laughed, but Tonks wasn't entirely confident about getting another one. Remus was so damned self-conscious and insecure that a day and a half in between seeing each other might be enough to make him re-think the whole thing. But she had to believe that this couldn't just be a passing fancy for him—not with his history. It _had_ to be something more serious—didn't it?

Tonks tried to banish these thoughts from her head as Cory pulled the cake out of the oven. She spent the rest of the evening with her friend, playing with Geoffrey and catching up. When Cory's husband Danny got home for his dinner break from the family restaurant, she excused herself to let them have their private time.

She tried to get to sleep early, but thoughts of Remus kept her awake for hours after she went to bed. If only tomorrow night could come sooner.

_Author's Note: Thanks for reading! And if you take the time to review, Remus might catch you off guard with a kiss._


	2. Chapter 2: Sorting Things Out

**Author's Notes: **Thanks again to my beta-reader, Shimotsuki for all her help. Portions of this chapter were previously posted as a one-shot called "Second Thoughts." That story can now be considered an extended out-take of this one.

**Previously, in "Transformations":** The morning after a wild night on the town with Bill and Sirius, Remus and Tonks share their first kiss. Before the implications of that act have time to sink in, Tonks must rush away to a lunch date with her mum. While there, Andromeda gets Tonks to confess to knowing where Sirius is, and to agree to arrange a meeting between the two old cousins. Tonks ends the day at her best girlfriend's house, where they dissect her evolving relationship with Remus.

**Chapter 2: Sorting Things Out**

Sirius awoke on the rug in front of the parlor fireplace, curled up around an empty bottle of wine. His head was killing him.

He struggled to his feet, and slogged downstairs to the kitchen. He intended to scrounge in the pantry for something to ease his headache, but an object on the table caught his eye. It was a steaming mug of what appeared to be his favorite hangover remedy, ready and waiting for him. Next to it was a note.

_P-_

_I think this is what _

_you're looking for._

_-M_

"Moony and his damned werewolf metabolism. He probably felt just fine this morning," muttered Sirius. He raised the mug to his lips and downed the pungent concoction in a few large gulps. He couldn't help but feel some gratitude for his friend's thoughtfulness when his head began to feel better almost immediately.

Once his headache had subsided, he began to notice the hunger pains in his belly. He opened the larder, looking for a quick bite to eat. As his eyes scanned the shelves, he began to get the feeling that something wasn't quite right. In just another moment, he realized what was bothering him. The larder was tidy. Organized. Everything was clearly visible, in neat, orderly rows. It hadn't looked this way yesterday.

He backed out of the larder, and took a closer look around the kitchen. It was definitely cleaner than it had been yesterday. The sink was practically gleaming.

"Huh," grunted Sirius in puzzlement. He grabbed an apple out of a basket on the counter, and headed up the stairs taking large crunching bites out of the fruit.

The juice from the apple began to dribble down his chin as he strode down the main hall. It had none of the usual accumulation of dust on the floor; it certainly looked like it had been recently swept. And he was certain that Kreacher was not the responsible party.

A strange sound up ahead caught his attention—it appeared to be coming from the library. He found the wide double doors of the library were open, and he stepped inside, pausing to take in the bizarre scene before him.

All the shelves in the library were bare. Remus stood in the center of the room, his back to the door, in front of a massive pile of books. One by one he was picking up the books, examining their covers, and then, with a flick of his wand, levitating them to one of six smaller piles of tomes dotting the room.

"Good morning," said Sirius.

"Good afternoon," responded Remus without turning around. "Didn't you notice the time?" He sent another book floating across the library.

Sirius glanced up at the clock on the library wall. "Huh," he said. "Good afternoon, indeed."

He stood in the doorway, watching his friend send book after book soaring around the room. He took another bite of his apple, and slowly chewed it. Finally, he swallowed. "So," he said, "what exactly are you doing?"

"Something I've been meaning to do for months now," said Remus. "I'm organizing the library. It was pure chaos in here. I'm sorting the books into subject categories, and then I'm going to shelve them alphabetically. But I haven't decided whether I should alphabetize by title, or by author. Do you have a preference? It is your house, after all."

"And this is after you've already organized the larder, cleaned the kitchen, and swept the halls?"

"I washed your linens too. It seemed the perfect opportunity, with you not sleeping in your bed."

Sirius sighed. "Remus, stop sorting the books. Turn around, and talk to me."

Remus lowered his current book back to the pile, and half turned toward Sirius with a concerned expression. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"That's what I was about to ask you," said Sirius, folding his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

"Why would you think something's wrong with me?"

"Because I haven't seen you acting like this since you thought you failed your Potions OWL and decided to clean and reorganize the whole dormitory. So, in the twelve hours since we all passed out in the parlor, what could possibly have happened to freak you out like this?"

"I am not freaked out," retorted Remus.

"Yes," replied Sirius, "you are. So what happened?"

Remus looked down at the ground and fidgeted his feet. Then he looked back up, and said, "I think I may have made a terrible mistake."

"Which is…?" said Sirius.

"I kissed her."

Sirius didn't need to ask who. He nodded his head in bemusement, strolled casually into the library, and flopped into one of the armchairs. "Okay," he said. "So you finally kissed her. Why is this a problem? I thought you'd be happy."

"I was—at first," said Remus, shuffling his feet some more. "I was thrilled, and excited, and full of enthusiasm about the future. But then, once she'd been gone for about a half an hour, I calmed down, and started to think about it realistically."

"Oh no," said Sirius, shaking his head. "No, no, no. That was a horrible mistake. This is exactly the sort of thing that thinking can totally ruin."

"You're still reasoning like a teenager. I'm afraid I don't have that luxury," said Remus.

"You like her, don't you?"

"Of course I like her! Her friendship is very important to me. That's why I'm afraid the kiss was such a mistake."

"Plenty of friendships have managed to survive a drunken snog. I wouldn't worry too much, if I was you," said Sirius.

"It wasn't a drunken snog," said Remus, sinking heavily into another armchair.

Sirius hesitated. "You didn't… shag her, did you?"

"No!" said Remus. "I meant I didn't kiss her when we were drunk. Somehow, when I was drunk, I managed to resist the temptation. No, I kissed her this morning when she was leaving for her flat."

"Oooh. You kissed hung-over Tonks. That's different. I've seen hung-over Tonks before, and she's not a pretty sight. Kissing hung-over Tonks is a sign of very serious intentions."

Remus sat up straighter, and frowned. "She didn't look that bad."

Sirius barked a laugh. "You really are falling for her, aren't you?"

"I might be," said Remus, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands. After a moment he looked back up. "So do you really think kissing her this morning sent the message that I was serious…about things?"

"Hmmm," said Sirius, absently tossing his apple core up and down in air. "What kind of kiss was it?"

"What kind?"

"Yes, what kind. Different kisses send different messages." Remus clearly didn't understand, so Sirius elaborated. "Was it just a quick little peck of a kiss, or was it a tongue twisting, body mashing, hands groping kind of a kiss?"

Remus blinked a few times in discomfort. "It was… somewhere in between. But… a little closer to the second than to the first."

"Ah! So was it more of a tender, lingering, emotional sort of kiss?"

Remus coughed, and looked down at his fidgeting hands. "Yes. Something like that, yes."

Sirius nodded. "Yes, that kind of kiss under those circumstances does send a pretty serious message. How did she react to it?"

Remus fidgeted some more. "She… kissed me back. And she fell off the front steps. And she wanted to skip her lunch appointment with her Mum to stay here with me."

Sirius was not entirely successful at stifling a laugh when Remus mentioned the bit about Tonks falling off the front steps. He grinned. "That's a pretty serious reaction."

"Yes. I thought it might be."

"So what did you do next?" he asked, still tossing his apple core up and down.

"I told her she should go meet her Mum."

Sirius dropped his apple core on the floor, and it rolled under a side table. He stared in wide-eyed astonishment at his friend. "You kicked her out?"

"I didn't kick her out! I just felt like she ought to keep her appointment with her Mum."

"And what did she say to that?"

Remus sighed. "She asked if she could come back tonight."

"And…?"

"And I told her we both needed a good night's sleep tonight, and we arranged to meet here tomorrow night instead."

Sirius laughed again. "And she was all right with that arrangement?"

Remus frowned at him again. "She seemed happy with it, yes."

Sirius shook his head in disbelief. What kind of man was Remus, to pass up an afternoon of snogging with a beautiful—and eager—young woman so that she could have lunch with her mum and have a good night's sleep? "I don't think I'll ever understand you, Moony," he said.

"I'm terribly sorry for being such a mystery to you," Remus replied. "I don't know what I was thinking, this morning. Last night was just so… and she looked so… and I just… There really wasn't a single rational thought in my head. It was pure instinct. Nothing more than a purely selfish act derived from the natural genetic drive to couple."

Sirius burst out laughing. "The natural genetic drive to couple?" said Sirius again, choking on his laughs. "Are you sure that was all there was to it?"

"No," said Remus with a sigh. "But the point is—I acted on pure impulse. And I know from sad experience that every time I act on impulse, things go wrong. They often go very, very wrong."

"Every time?"

"Would you like the list?"

"How could I resist?" said Sirius. Remus had always been prone to over-dramatize his mishaps, and Sirius was certain that today would be no exception.

Remus got to his feet, and paced to the other end of the room. Then, he turned sharply, staring Sirius in the eye. "Do you remember Driselda Tippens?"

"Oooh," said Sirius. "That did go rather badly, didn't it? So _that's_ what you mean by acting on impulse."

"What did you think I meant? Deciding at the last minute to eat kidney pie instead of curry?"

Sirius shrugged. "Go on," he prompted.

With a sigh, Remus continued, pacing and turning with each new item on his list. "How about my sudden decision to try-out for the House Quidditch team?" Sirius winced. "Or that illicit trip to the Hog's Head the night before taking our NEWTS? And don't forget the time I asked Doreen Hopkins to spend the day in Hogsmeade with me. And the _incident_ at James' bachelor party. Or the time I thought the Death Eaters had captured Lily, and I went in to rescue her single-handed without telling a soul? I could have died, for God's sake!"

"Very true," said Sirius, nodding. His guts and clenched with the memory of each horrific incident on Remus' list. He was starting to agree that Moony was making a very solid case for his inability to make good decisions on impulse, but he still felt that kissing Tonks would prove to be an exception to the rule.

"And there were a large number of similar mishaps while you were away—none of which I plan on sharing with you, by the way. But you full well know the crowning example of my disastrous impulsive behavior. How could you forget the night I impulsively followed you to the Shrieking Shack without thinking to take my potion first? If I hadn't transformed into a ravening beast, we very well may have retained our possession of Peter, and you would now be exonerated and Voldemort may never have been returned to power!"

"Good lord!" said Sirius with an incredulous laugh. "Now you're blaming yourself for Voldemort's resurrection?"

"How can I not?" exclaimed Remus, with a despairing look on his face.

Sirius closed his eyes, and rubbed his forehead. He could feel his headache coming back. "Did I ever tell you how much I hate it when you get melodramatic?"

"I'm not being melodramatic," retorted Remus.

"Yes," said Sirius firmly, "you are. Now stop it. We're not here to second guess each and every decision you've ever made so that we can ultimately blame all of society's woes on you. We are here to determine whether or not you should spend some more time snogging my cousin."

Remus struggled to look outraged, but finally gave in to Sirius' light-heartedness, and cracked a reluctant smile. "You have quite a way with words sometimes."

"One of my many talents. Now sit down. All your pacing is making my head hurt."

"Sorry," said Remus, and he returned to his seat.

Sirius rubbed his forehead again, and said, "I'm not even sure if your litany of negative precedents has anything to with the matter at hand. Tonks wasn't a sudden impulse. You've fancied her for ages, haven't you?"

Remus looked at his fidgeting hands for a moment, before saying, "Yes, in a way."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "How can you fancy someone _in a way_?"

"Well," said Remus, as if searching his mind for an explanation. "I admit that I was attracted to her almost from the start. But I never in my wildest imaginings thought that she would ever be interested in me as something more than a friend. So I just…tried to be her friend. I suppose I felt that having a tiny bit of a crush on my friend wouldn't do anyone any harm, so long as I kept it to myself."

"And now?" pressed Sirius.

"And now… Well, it was only in the last few days that I admitted to myself that my feelings for her have grown stronger than I ever intended them to. And then suddenly, last night, it became clear that she actually felt the same way about me. It boggled my mind. I didn't know what to do. And this morning I just … kissed her."

"Hmmm," said Sirius. "So, your feelings weren't impulsive, but your actions were."

Remus nodded silently.

Sirius rested his chin in his hand, contemplating his friend's situation. "So the situation at hand is: you suddenly found out Tonks fancies you, and impulsively sent her every signal that you were interested in starting a relationship with her, and now you're thinking of backing out of it?"

Remus nodded sheepishly.

Sirius frowned, and shook his head in disbelief. "You really can be a cold-hearted bastard, sometimes. Did you know that?"

"There's nothing cold-hearted about it," said Remus. "I only have her best interests in mind."

"Her best interests? Great Merlin, Remus! How in hell is this kind of mind game in her best interests?"

"She deserves better than what I can give her!"

"Oh really?"

"Yes!" Remus was turning red in the face. "She deserves a man who can hold down a job. A man who's young, and healthy. A man who can afford to pamper her. She deserves a man who will be there to lift her spirits whenever she's feeling down, and who can pick her up whenever she falls, and who can just… always _be there_ for her, no matter what. And I am not that man. There are several days each month when I will _never_ be there for her, or anyone else. I will never be the kind of man that she deserves."

Sirius couldn't believe that this was what Remus really thought of himself. "Damn. I guess I never looked at it that way. But still—if I had a girl like Tonks, I wouldn't let my status as England's-most-wanted stop me. What's the difference?"

"The difference is, someday, once Peter is apprehended, you won't be a fugitive anymore. But I will always be a werewolf." Remus' face was hard and cold. Sirius wondered how many times over the years Remus had repeated that sad mantra to himself, in order to deny himself the normal pleasures of life.

"She's an Auror, Remus. She knows all about werewolves. And if she's willing to give things a try in spite of it, then you should be too. Besides," he added nonchalantly, "you don't even know how serious she is."

"You think she might not be serious about me?" asked Remus. He looked disappointed.

Sirius stifled a grin. He was fairly certain that his cousin's feelings for Remus were _very _serious, but now didn't seem like the right time to mention that fact. "She's young. She's still playing the field. She probably would just like to go on a few dates, see how things go. And if it doesn't work out, no problem, you can just go back to being friends. That's how girls her age do things."

Remus suddenly looked very thoughtful. Somehow, Sirius didn't think that was a good thing. "Do you think she's too young for me?" asked Remus.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "No—she's not too young for you. Yes, she's young, but not too young."

Remus was looking at his hands again. "Did I ever tell you that Andromeda was the first girl I ever fancied?"

"No. You never did."

"Well, she was. It started when we were first years and she was a sixth year, and she would let us tag along with her even though we must have been horribly annoying. I thought she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Even after she eloped with Ted, I still thought of her as some sort of perfect dream girl. I didn't really let go of the fantasy until I heard she was having a baby."

"That's awfully… bizarre, for a twelve year old."

"I was a rather bizarre child at times," said Remus.

"I'm remembering."

"So now," said Remus, "I am the bloke who just snogged the baby of the first girl he ever fancied."

"Good Lord, you're melodramatic today!" said Sirius.

"I must be in a melodramatic mood."

"She's not too young for you!"

"I know." Remus nodded. "Logically, I know that. Logically, I know that she is indeed an Auror, and knows very well the complications that would come from a relationship with a werewolf. And logically, I know you're right—this doesn't have to be serious right from the start. We really could just go out a few times, and try things out. I just—haven't done this sort of thing in a very long time. I'm," he paused, "a little bit scared."

"Oh really? I never would have guessed," said Sirius.

Remus cracked a smile. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be unloading all my paranoia on you like this."

Sirius leaned back, and put his hands behind his head. "No problem, mate. It's not like I have anything more interesting to do."

"Well, I'm so glad to provide you with an afternoon's entertainment."

"You've got to pay for your lodging somehow. This way's as good as any."

They were silent for a moment. Then Sirius spoke again. "So have you made up your mind? Will you be breaking my poor cousin's heart tomorrow?"

Remus looked at him sharply. "I thought you said she wasn't that serious about me."

"It was just a figure of speech. So have you made up your mind?"

"Not yet."

"Well, don't take too long. The week's almost over."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because," said Sirius, "if you start going out this week, Mundungus will be a very happy man."

"Mundungus? What…?" started Remus.

Sirius cut him off. "But if you wait until next week, Emmeline's the one who will benefit, and we all know she doesn't need the money."

"What money?"

"Well, several of us started getting the feeling quite a while ago that your relationship with Tonks was headed in a romantic direction, so we started a small betting pool, to try to predict the actual week the two of you would become involved."

Remus' mouth hung open, and his face was turning red again. "You started a betting pool about my personal life!?"

"It's as much about Tonks' personal life as it is about yours, you know," stated Sirius matter-of-factly.

"I can't believe your audacity!"

"It was actually Bill's idea."

"Bill's idea?"

"Don't look so shocked—I'm not the only troublemaker around here, you know," said Sirius.

"How many people are involved in this betting pool of yours?" asked Remus.

"Most of the Order."

"Even Molly and Arthur?"

"Oh, they were the most optimistic of the bunch," said Sirius. "Their weeks of choice have come and gone ages ago."

"Are you trying to tell me," said Remus with a pained expression, "that the members of the Order of the Phoenix have nothing better to talk about than whether or not Tonks and I will become a couple?"

"These are dark times. It cheers us up to talk about the potential happiness two of our friends could give each other," Sirius said with a straight face.

"You are an outrageous liar."

"Very often, yes. But the betting pool is real."

Remus shook his head. "It's just so unbelievable."

"You know," said Sirius, "it would greatly disappoint me if you rejected my dear cousin. I'd have to take her side—she is family after all. And I'd have to snub you for at least two weeks. It would make my life even more dreadfully boring; I have so few people to talk to. Not to mention, I'd hate to see Severus win all that money."

"Severus!?"

"Yes," said Sirius, nodding sadly. "He bet that you'd never get together at all."

"You let Severus place a bet about my love-life?" Remus looked outraged.

"He overheard Bill talking about it, and that git of a Weasley let him place the bet. I never would have allowed it."

Remus shook his head. "So everyone but Severus has believed for months that Tonks and I would get together."

"You two have been practically inseparable, you know. You're always going off to dark corners to laugh at your little private jokes, and you're always arranging to go on assignments together. It just seemed so obvious."

"And it's impossible for a single man and a single woman to just be good friends?"

"Your actions this morning clearly demonstrated that it is."

"I was asking for that, wasn't I," said Remus with a smile.

"Yes, you were."

"So," said Remus, looking down at his hands again, "you don't really think we could just go back to being friends, do you."

Sirius shook his head. "Not completely. It won't ever be quite the same again."

"I've really mangled things, haven't I? I don't want to lose her friendship, Sirius."

"You don't have to. And you have the chance to have even more. You just have to be willing to pull your head out of your arse, and admit that she's worth the risk."

Remus looked up into his friend's eyes. His face had gone pale. "What if I fall in love with her, and she decides she doesn't want me after all?"

Sirius had suspected from the start that this was the heart of the issue, and he would place a bet that his friend was already more than halfway in love with her. Luckily for Remus, Tonks showed every sign of being equally enamored.

"Then I," said Sirius, "will be your shoulder to cry on."

"Thank you. That makes me feel so much better," said Remus sarcastically. Sirius let out a few laughs.

"So, my friend, have you made up your mind?"

Remus shook his head. "Not yet. But you've given me a lot to think about—not the least of which is how to get back at Bill for this betting pool."

"But don't think too much—your instincts aren't all that bad."

Remus nodded, but said nothing.

"How about we go downstairs, and I make us some dinner?"

Remus raised one eyebrow. "It's not even four o'clock."

"I know, but that bloody apple is all I've had to eat all day. I'm famished. And knowing you, you've been too obsessed with your cleaning frenzy to stop for a meal. Am I right?"

Remus laughed. "Actually, you are. Now that you mention it, I think I am hungry."

"Brilliant. Let's go make some food."

Remus agreed with a nod. As the two of them stood and headed down to the kitchen, Remus said, "It really would be a shame to let Severus win all that money, wouldn't it?"

"It would be a travesty. A complete and utter travesty," Sirius agreed. He felt fairly certain that his cousin was safe from heartache, at least for now. But just to be sure, he wasn't going to give Remus very much time to _think_, as he was certain that no good would come of it.

* * *

Remus stood in the dining room of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, pacing back and forth. In less than an hour, most of the Order of the Phoenix would be gathering—this time not for a meeting to discuss new assignments in their unacknowledged war, but for a celebration. Today was Sirius Black's thirty-seventh birthday. But Remus's mind was not on Sirius—it was on someone vastly nicer to look at. And tonight would be the first time he would see her since they had kissed.

He had barely slept last night, kept awake by thoughts of her. And he couldn't keep still. He felt compelled to action, but to what action he wasn't sure. Kreacher wandered into the room, muttering epithets about the hideous half-breed creature wearing holes into his mistress's nice rugs with all its pacing. A minute later he left the room clutching a stack of embroidered napkins. Remus let him go without comment.

His talk with Sirius yesterday had done little to ease his misgivings. Remus had no desire to drag Tonks into a relationship fraught with the never-ending complications of lycanthropy. But neither did he want to give her up. Sirius's assurances that she wasn't too serious about things hadn't helped. The more he thought about her, the more he realized that he wasn't sure which scared him more—the thought that she _was_ serious about him, or the thought that she _wasn't_.

A few minutes later, Sirius came into the room. "There you are."

"Yes. Here I am," said Remus, pausing in his back and forth circuit of the room.

Sirius nodded at him. "Molly and Arthur will be here any minute to get things set up."

"Lovely." Remus clapped his hands together. "Will I be needed in the kitchen, then?"

Sirius nodded. "I think so. I sure as hell won't be helping. It's my party, after all."

"Some things never change, do they?"

"Would you really want them to?"

Remus smiled, and shook his head. "I suppose not."

Sirius looked intently at him. "So have you finally made up your mind?"

Remus nodded, and smiled nervously. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I have."

"So, what's it going to be?" asked Sirius.

"I am going to tell her that I am interested in going out with her—but that I would like to keep things casual, and friendly. No strings attached."

Sirius nodded. "Casual and friendly, no strings attached. Sounds good to me."

Remus knew Sirius was lying. Of course it didn't sound good. It didn't even sound good to _him_. Half of him wanted to go back in time and stop himself from ever kissing her—then they could just keep going as they had before, as friends. The other half of him wanted to pull her back into his arms the instant he saw her, and snog her senseless. It was amazing how much she'd gotten under his skin in the six short months that they'd known each other. He wanted her more than he'd wanted any other woman in years—and it terrified him.

"Good," said Remus, in response to Sirius's feigned approval, forcing a smile onto his face. "Do you think she'll be all right with that?" he asked lamely.

"Sure she will! Sure she will," said Sirius, patting Remus on the back. Sirius turned and left the room, and Remus slowly followed. He was beginning to feel sick.

When Arthur and Molly arrived, he went with Molly down to the kitchen to help prepare the refreshments. For some inexplicable reason, he didn't want to be upstairs when Tonks arrived. Finally, he and Molly had two trays each loaded with plates of cake and glasses of punch. They levitated them up the stairs and reached the sitting room where the Order had congregated without mishap. He began to pass the refreshments around, when suddenly she was at his side.

He caught his breath. She was stunning. Her delicate pink hair flowed in loose waves around her face, and her sapphire colored top clung tantalizingly to her curves, allowing a smooth expanse of pale pink skin to peek out above the waist of her form-fitting trousers. "Here, let me help you with that," she said, reaching for the glass of punch in his hand. As her fingers brushed against his, he lost his grip and the glass tumbled to the ground, dumping its contents on the hardwood floor.

"Whoops," he said, instantly regretting that the only word that would come out of his mouth made him sound like a dumbstruck ten year old.

"Don't worry," she said under her breath, leaning into him conspiratorially. "Your reputation is safe. Everyone will blame it on me." She winked at him, and cast a quick _scourgify_ on the puddle of punch before bending to retrieve the glass.

Her prediction proved right, especially after she herself dropped another glass, and a piece of cake. As they circulated amongst their friends and comrades, they fell easily into their usual lighthearted banter. _This isn't so bad_, he thought. _I kissed her—but we can still talk like nothing has changed._

Much to his delight, their easy companionship kept up for the whole evening. They moved throughout the room, talking and laughing with nearly all the Order members in turn. In fact, the only thing that had changed since before their kiss was that instead of wandering off from time to time, she stayed by his side the entire evening. It felt wonderful to have her constantly there, hearing the sound of her voice, and smelling the familiar waft of her vanilla spice perfume.

Remus did notice that Sirius kept giving him strange looks with a raised eyebrow, as if to ask_ "So when are you two going to sneak off together?"_ Remus chose to ignore him. Otherwise, he evening fairly flew by. In fact, Remus was surprised when he noticed that nearly everyone had left. Sirius was in one corner chatting with Dung and Bill, and Arthur and Molly were beginning to gather the scattered cups and plates back onto the trays. "We should give them a hand," said Remus to Nymphadora.

"Oh yes," she replied. "Let's."

They helped finish the tidying up and collected the dirty dishes, following the Weasleys down to the kitchen. Just as Molly was turning on the water to wash the dishes, Nymphadora spoke up. "Molly, Arthur. You've both done so much tonight already, let Remus and me finish up. You two should go home."

"Absolutely," said Remus. "We can certainly handle this mess between the two of us. You go ahead and go home." It wasn't until after he spoke that he realized that this may have been a ploy on Nymphadora's part to finally get him alone. His eyes darted over to her nervously, and he started to shuffle his feet. This was really it. Time to sort things out, once and for all.

Molly and Arthur thanked them heartily and then headed back up the stairs. Remus ignored Nymphadora's meaningful gaze, and darted to the sink where he began feverishly washing the dishes. Without a word, Nymphadora stepped up beside him, and began to dry them and put them away. She only dropped one plate, and it didn't even break.

It seemed like no time at all, and they were finished. Remus's eyes darted around the room, looking for another chore to occupy them, but the rest of the kitchen was perfectly tidy.

Nymphadora took a seat on the tabletop in front of him, and looked up at him expectantly.

Remus shuffled slowly over to the table, and gingerly lowered himself to the pitted wooden surface beside her. "Well," he said. "This was fun. But not nearly as fun as our _other _party."

"I'll agree with you there," she replied. "That was quite the party, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Yes it was." Remus was feeling exceedingly awkward, and his nerves were sending chills up and down his legs. He twitched them to try to quell the sensation.

"And then," she said slowly, looking down at her feet dangling above the floor, "there was what happened yesterday morning."

"Yes. Yes indeed. Yesterday morning. That was...That was…" He had absolutely no idea what to say.

"That was highly unexpected. But also very nice." She looked up to catch his eye, and smiled at him with a delightful twinkle in her expression.

"Was it?" he said. _Nice. Nice is good. I can live with nice_. "Because, I wasn't sure if...if you really...you know, wanted to?"

She raised her eyebrows. "If you weren't sure, then why did you do it?"

"It just…it seemed like the thing to do." _Merlin, I sound like an idiot. Why in the world does she even give me the time of day? She shouldn't, but she does!_

In fact, she was giving him far more than the time of day right now. She was staring raptly at his face, a small smile dancing on her lips, looking both pensive, and excited. He could feel his heart pounding faster.

"It seemed like the thing to do?" she replied.

He nodded. "Yes."

"Well then," she said.

They were staring into each other's eyes. Somehow, Remus noticed, their faces had drawn very close to each other. She slowly reached up, and pulled his face towards hers for a kiss. It was slow, and sweet and soft. Her lips kept opening, tantalizing him, daring him to come inside. Then, suddenly, it was over. She pulled back, and looked up at him with an adorable expression, biting her bottom lip. "It seemed like the thing to do," she said.

He started to laugh. She joined him. _My God, she's beautiful when she laughs._

"I'm really glad this is happening," she said. "I have to admit—I've been wanting something like this for a long time now." Her speech was hesitant, and nervous. Remus felt dumbstruck. This magnificent, extraordinary, beautiful woman had been pining after _him_—of all people? And she was still nervous about whether or not he wanted her in return? What god had he pleased lately to earn this kind of reward?

He swallowed, and took a breath. "How long is a long time?"

She grimaced and bit her lip again. "I never know when to keep my big mouth shut, do I? If I tell you, I'm going to be horribly embarrassed."

"Now I have to know," he said, smiling in spite of his nerves. "Was it more than a month?"

She looked away, still biting her lip. _She looks as nervous as I feel. Remarkable. _She nodded. "Yes." He thought he could see a trace of a blush rising in her cheeks.

He was shocked. "More than two months?"

She nodded again. "Yes."

His heart almost skipped a beat. She couldn't be serious. Could she? "How long _has_ it been?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

She sighed, and looked at him imploringly. "You're not going to let me get out of this, are you?"

He couldn't help but laugh. "Not when you're so determined to evade answering. It makes this far too interesting. Now come on. Fess up." He was actually starting to enjoy this.

She looked down at her hands. "I've been attracted to you ever since July."

"But that's almost as long as we've known each other!" he said in disbelief.

"I know," she said. "Now I've gone and made you feel uncomfortable, haven't I?"

"No! No. Not at all." He found, as he said it, that he actually meant it. "In fact," he said impulsively, "I felt attracted to you for a very long time also. I just never imagined that you would feel the same way about me." There were quite a few other reasons why he had never spoken up, but he didn't feel that now was the time to go into them.

"Really?"

How could she doubt it?

"Really," he reiterated.

The way she was looking at him made all thoughts of "friendly and casual" depart rapidly from his mind. The last thing he wanted right now was "friendly."

He reached up to take her face in his hands, and leaned in to kiss her. This kiss rapidly became more intense than their earlier attempts. His mouth moved against hers with a hunger that he hadn't known he possessed—extraordinarily, she responded with equal enthusiasm. It was like something out of a wonderful euphoric dream, and he never wanted it to end. He slid off the table, and moved to stand in front of her, leaning over her with his fingers winding through her hair.

Just as he was deepening their kiss even further, he heard an unmistakable snort of laughter and the sound off feet hastily retreating up the stairs. They pulled apart, and stared at the kitchen door. "I believe my cousin was just spying on us," she said.

"It certainly looks that way," said Remus, unable to restrain his broad smile. Tonight was going far better than he expected.

"So what was so funny? Do we look like a couple of sucker fish, or something?"

Remus laughed. "No. I don't think he was laughing at how we looked. I think he was laughing at what we were doing."

Nymphadora raised her eyebrows. "Is laughter his usual reaction to snogging, then?"

"No," said Remus, shaking his head. "It's just that yesterday he and I had a long talk about...about what _might_ be happening between you and me. And, I think I came across as rather—nervous. I led him to expect something quite the opposite of what he just witnessed."

Nymphadora smiled impishly. "So you were nervous about me?"

"I confess that I was, yes."

She laughed. "What were you nervous about? Did you think I wouldn't be interested, or something?"

Remus looked at his feet, suddenly feeling very sheepish. He shrugged. "Maybe."

She laughed again. "And here I was, terrified that I was going to scare you off because I was so obviously throwing myself at you."

_Throwing herself at me? And I never even noticed. I must be the biggest idiot in the world. She was obvious enough for everyone else to see this coming before I did, and yet this whole time I was convinced we were just good friends!_ "Well, you didn't scare me off."

"And I assure you that I _am_ interested. So..."

"So..." he echoed, "I think the thing to do now, would be for me to ask you out to dinner."

She nodded her head, and kicked her dangling feet playfully. "That does sound like a good idea."

He couldn't stop smiling. "What night would be good for you?"

"We could do our usual night—Tuesday," she said. They had been going out as friends nearly every Tuesday night for the past several months.

Remus pursed his lips. "That wouldn't be...odd...for you?"

"No. Why would it?"

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "I've just never done this before."

"Done what—exactly?" She quirked her head and raised an eyebrow.

"You know—gone from friends, to...something more. It's always been just one or the other." Saying the words _something more_ made him feel exceedingly nervous again. What exactly _more_ meant had not yet been determined, and he hated uncertainty.

Her smile was reassuring. "I must confess that I've never made that leap before either, but I don't think it will be that hard. It seems to me that we can probably just do the same sorts of things that we've always done, only more often we'll do them as just the two of us, instead of with Sirius or Bill. And we can do a few other, newer things as well."

"Such as?"

"Such as this," she said, pulling him in for another sweet, lingering kiss.

After their lips parted, he leaned his forehead against hers, and with his eyes closed, breathed deeply, savoring their closeness. "You do make it sound very easy. I think I like that."

"Me too," she said, almost in a whisper.

He captured two more brief kisses from her mouth, before leaning back to look down at her beautiful face. As he stared into her eyes, he uttered the only words that came into his mind. "Why me? You could have any man in the world that you want. So why me? Why did you choose the old, impoverished, nobody?"

"You're somebody to me. Besides, I'd hardly call thirty-six old, and your financial status only bothers me when you get too stubborn about it to accept gifts from the people who care about you. You're smart, and funny, and caring, and compassionate. You're a wonderful man, Remus. I wish you could see yourself the way the rest of us do." Her words were so fervent and impassioned that he almost believed them.

"So you're not the only one who sees me this way?" he asked.

A mischievous smile spread across her face. "I would say not. The whole Order sees you this way. Especially the ladies."

He raised one eyebrow. "The ladies?"

"Oh yes," she replied, taking his hands in hers and swinging their arms with youthful abandon. "Did you know that you're the commonly agreed upon second most attractive man in the Order? You're first on my list, of course, but on the official list I'm afraid you only made second. Still, that's still nothing to be ashamed of."

"What in the world are you talking about?" he asked in genuine bafflement.

She let loose a light, carefree laugh. "Back in August, once things had settled down a bit, Molly decided it would be nice for all the ladies in the Order to do a little female-bonding. So we all got together at Emmeline's flat to eat biscuits, and drink wine, and gossip. And after a little too much elderberry wine, Hestia decided to start ranking all the blokes in the Order according to their looks. And the rest of us jumped in, and eventually we started factoring in personality as well as looks into our overall attractiveness scale. And at the end of the day, you came in a close second to Bill Weasley."

"You've got to be joking!" said Remus. "All of you were in on this? Even Emmeline? And Minerva?"

"Oh yes," she said. "Emmeline joined me in lobbying quite ardently to rank you first, but Minerva and Molly were able to overpower us once Hestia joined in with them to insist on Bill."

"So this is what women really talk about when they're alone together?"

"Among other things," she replied, running her fingers lightly up his right arm to his shoulder, and sending a corresponding shockwave down his spine. "You'd be amazed what the stateliest old woman will say once you fill her with chocolate biscuits and elderberry wine."

Remus shook his head in amazement. "So out of all the fellows in the Order, I came in second?"

"Yep," she agreed.

"Over Sirius? I thought he was every woman's bad-boy fantasy?"

"Oh, Hestia wanted to rank him first—she's quite taken with his tragic image. He could really have a go with her if he wanted, you know."

"I don't think he's ever thought twice about Hestia," said Remus, hardly believing he was actually having this conversation.

Nymphadora sighed. "No one ever does, poor girl. But in spite of her ardent argument in his favor, the rest of us dislike his moodiness and temper. So he was actually ranked fourth—first goes to Bill, followed by you, Kingsley, and Sirius, with Arthur rounding out the top five. But we only really ranked him there to flatter Molly, and because none of the others have seen Charlie lately. He's grown into quite a dish, you know."

Remus laughed. "Enough of a dish to challenge me for second?"

"Hmmm... Not quite," she said.

Remus shook his head again. "If you had told me yesterday that I would be having this particular conversation today, I would have told you that you were crazy. This is really the most absurd thing I've talked about in ages."

"I doubt that."

"If I'm always so absurd, then why am I so damned attractive?"

"It's part of the appeal. Men who are serious all the time can never be truly attractive. They seem to be lacking something essential. You, on the other hand, have ample good humor to give you a delightfully winning personality, in spite of your being a stodgy bookworm." She finished with a playful smirk on her face, and clasped her hands behind his neck.

Remus smiled down at her. "Well, I think this teaches me to never again ask a woman why she finds me attractive."

"Good," she said. "Because I'm the only one you're supposed to be asking these things—not some random woman."

Remus laughed again. The idea of having a relationship with Nymphadora was rapidly becoming less and less terrifying. And the idea that she was only interested in a few casual dates seemed to have been blown out of the water. But with her arms around his neck, and his arms around her waist, the prospect of a more serious relationship was something that seemed very appealing indeed. Maybe, just maybe, he was finally ready to give this sort of thing another try.

"So," he said. "Before our little tangent, I believe we were discussing Tuesday?"

"Yes, I think we were."

"Do you still want to meet outside of the Ministry?" he asked. Their usual Tuesday routine had been to meet outside the front entrance, after she got off of work.

She shook her head. "I think I want to go back to my flat first, and change out of my work robes."

"Of course. Of course. So I'll pick you up at your flat, then. Say, at seven o'clock?"

She grinned. "Seven sounds perfect."

"All right, then. Seven, at your flat. Excellent, excellent."

"Where will we go?" she asked.

He pondered for a moment, before responding. "Let me surprise you."

"Oooh. That sounds like fun."

"I certainly hope so." He leaned in to kiss her again. He could really get used to this.

A few minutes later, she pulled back to look up at him. "Are you sure you haven't done this in ten years? You don't seem at all out of practice."

He grinned. "I'm sure. I think this is the sort of thing I would have remembered."

"Hmmm…" she said. "It must be like flying a broom—once you've learned how, you never really forget."

"Must be," he muttered, going in for more.

Just as things were heating up, they heard a scratchy voice mumbling, "Filthy creatures. Tarnishing the sanctity of my Mistress's home." They both turned their heads, to see Kreacher lurking in the corner. He continued to mutter a string of complaints about their behavior as they stared at him.

Nymphadora turned back to Remus. "Maybe that's my cue to leave," she said. "I do have work in the morning, after all."

Remus nodded reluctantly. "I'll see you out." Remus had walked her to the door of Grimmauld Place dozens of times before, but this was the first time he held her hand all the way. It felt good.

He opened the door, and they looked into each other's eyes again. "I'll see you on Tuesday," he said.

"If not sooner," she said.

"If not sooner," he repeated. He leaned in for another kiss.

A minute later, they parted, and she said, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he said.

After closing the door behind her, he made his way back upstairs.

He heard footsteps following him up the stairs. It was inevitable, really. Sirius caught up to him on the first floor landing.

"Hiya, mate," he said.

"Sirius," replied Remus with a nod.

"So, did your talk with Tonks go well?"

"Very well, thank you," replied Remus mildly.

"Oh. Jolly good, then."

"Yes. Well, I'm off to bed. Good night." Remus turned to start up the next flight of stairs.

"Good night." Sirius paused. "So how did she take the whole, _casual and friendly_ bit?"

Remus looked over his shoulder striving to keep his expression blank. "It didn't come up."

"It didn't come up?"

"No," said Remus shaking his head.

"So what happened to all your rational thinking and careful decision making?" asked Sirius in genuine curiosity.

Remus put his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. That was a very good question. Just yesterday he'd gone on at considerable length to Sirius about why starting a relationship with Nymphadora wouldn't make rational sense, and would be pure selfishness on his part. But all of his carefully reasoned arguments had fled his mind the instant he saw her tonight. "I suppose I let instinct win this time," he finally said.

"So the genetic drive to couple beat out rational thought?"

"It did this time," said Remus, smiling. "Rational thought can be overrated, after all."

Sirius let out a few barking laughs. "So tell me, Moony-what exactly did Tonks do to get that instinct of yours to take over?"

"Now Padfoot," said Remus, looking Sirius in the eye, "that wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me, would it?"

"Oh come on, mate! You know I have to live vicariously through you. Spill the details!"

"I'm sorry, Sirius, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave this one to your imagination. Good night." With that, Remus turned on his heel and headed up the stairs.

"Come on!" called Sirius after him. "Please?"

Remus ignored him. The last thing he needed right now was a conversation with Sirius to muddle his thoughts even more. What he needed was some piece and quiet to calm his rapidly beating heart. And, he needed to think of a place to take Nymphadora on Tuesday.

**Author's Notes: **I hope y'all liked it! Please leave a review. And what did you think of the "Previously in..." blurb? Most of my favorite TV shows do one, so I thought I might try it out in fic, since it's been a few weeks since I updated. If you like it, I'll keep doing it. If not, it goes bye-bye. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3: Working Girl

**Author's Notes: **As ever, much thanks goes to my beta reader, Shimotsuki. First-date goodness can be found within. Enjoy!

**Previously, in "Transformations": **The afternoon following Remus's first kiss with Tonks, Sirius helps talk him through his conflicted feelings. The next day, after Sirius's birthday party, Remus and Tonks have a heart to heart (and a few lovely snogs), and decide to give a relationship a try.

Chapter 3: Working Girl

Normally, Tonks hated waking up in the morning. But today she woke with a smile on her face. She stretched, and hopped out of bed. No morning could be a bad one after snogging Remus before going to bed.

She skipped over to the small cage in the corner of her room, and started cooing softly at the small speckled barn owl inside. "Time to wake up, Lulu," she said opening the door of the cage. "I need you to run an errand for me."

Tonks bounded across the clothing-strewn floor, and searched through the pile on her desktop until she found a blank sheet of parchment. She quickly scratched a note. "Cory—I got my snog! And it was better than I ever imagined. He's taking me out on Tuesday. I guess I haven't been wasting the last six months after all. Love, Tonks XOXO."

She tied the note to Lulu's leg, and opened a window for the small owl. "Here you go, darling. I'll have a nice little mousy waiting for you when you get back." Lulu fluttered off with a tiny screech, and Tonks closed the window behind her.

She had showered, dressed, and was finishing her breakfast when the owl returned. She let her in, and pulled the note from her leg. "Good girl," she said, putting Lulu back in her cage and fetching the promised treat from her fridge. At last, she returned to the kitchen, and unrolled the note.

"Tonks—I just knew it would happen! I'm so happy for you! After Tuesday, you'll have to make the time to come and give me the details in person. Love and kisses, Cory."

Tonks was still beaming three hours later as she and two other Aurors positioned themselves outside of a shabby house in Wales, preparing for a surprise raid. The owners of the house had been seen trafficking in illegal potions ingredients, and were suspected of using dark magic to protect their little enterprise. Tonks gritted her teeth and tried to shake thoughts of Remus from her head. She needed to focus on the task at hand, or there could be trouble.

Red sparks shot up in the air. That was the signal. "_Reducto!_" she cried, blasting open the window in front of her. She leapt through the gaping hole where the window had been, and took a quick survey of the room in front of her. Shelves covered with illegal ingredients lined the walls, but no one was in the room. She made her way to the door, her wand held at the ready in front of her.

She kicked open the door, and dodged as a curse blasted past her. She took aim at her assailant in the hall, and hit him with an _Expelliarmus_. His wand went flying, and he turned to run, but Tonks was faster. "_Incarcerous!_" Thick ropes wound around the wizard, and he fell hard to the ground.

She could hear the sound of fighting coming from a room down the hall. She dashed toward it, and burst into the room, casting up a protective shield spell to ensure that she wouldn't be hit by any stray curses.

A corpulent man spun on his knees with surprising agility to face her. He had been hiding behind a sofa that stood between him and the other door, from which Proudfoot was blasting him with spells, but he now sat fully exposed to her. She struck him with another _Expelliarmus_, just as Proudfoot called out, "Behind you!"

She turned and dived as a stream of arrows shot at her from the wand of yet another assailant. She was able to evade the arrows, but as she dodged, she stumbled and landed on the floor. Proudfoot was shooting spells over her head at her arrow-launching attacker, and she strove to rise to her feet and move out of the line of fire when the beefy man she had disarmed launched himself at her with alarming speed. Her shoulder hit the corner of a table hard, and she fell face-down to the floor. She cried out in pain, but held tight to her wand.

Her massive assailant tackled her, pinning her to the ground, and scrambled to reach her wand. She could barely catch her breath under his massive bulk, and struggled desperately to crawl forward out of his grasp. Her wand arm was pinned beneath her, and his meaty hand was groping under her in an attempt to take her wand. With a furious adrenaline-fueled heave, she freed her arm and slammed her elbow into his eye. He cried out, and reared back, giving her room to twist around and point her wand right at him. "_Stupefy!_" she cried. A red bolt of light hit him square in the face, and he toppled lifelessly onto her. She grunted as his bulk once more knocked the wind out of her.

Proudfoot dashed up to her. "Well done, Tonks! I was afraid he had you, for a minute there."

Robards entered the room. "I've secured the rest of the house. We have them all. Great Merlin, Tonks! Are you all right?"

"I will be once you get this monster the bloody hell off of me!" she wheezed. "I can hardly breathe!"

Proudfoot hastily levitated the unconscious man off of her, and then secured him by conjuring some ropes. Robards stepped forward to help her to her feet.

"Ouch!" she said as he tried to pull her up by the left arm. She scrambled to a sitting position, and offered him her right arm instead. Once she was on her feet he took a close look at her left arm. "Where does your arm hurt?" he asked.

"It's not my arm. It's my shoulder. It hit the table when that brute threw me down."

Robards nodded. "It's probably dislocated. Proudfoot and I will call in some fellows from MLE to help get these blokes to the lock-up. You ought to get yourself to St. Mungo's to get that shoulder attended to."

Tonks scowled. She had taken down two of the men herself, and she wasn't going to give up the glory of walking them into the Ministry lock-up that easily. "I'll be all right for a while longer," she said, wincing as she spoke. Her side was hurting when she breathed, but she wasn't about to admit it.

"Oh really?" said Robards, raising an eyebrow. "Then how about you bend over and retrieve this fellow's wand."

She strode over to the wand, and leaned to pick it up. Robards stopped her. "With your _left_ hand," he called.

She glared at him, and clenched her teeth against the pain as she tried to reach for the wand with her left hand, but it was too much, and a small whimper escaped her lips before she even got close to the wand. "Give it up, Tonks," said Robards. "You need to get to a Healer."

She stood up straight, and nodded morosely. She was the smallest and youngest of the Aurors, and she hated to appear weak in front of them. Nearly all of the Auror squad made regular trips to St. Mungo's, but she felt like every trip she had to take made her appear less competent in their eyes. She felt like she had more to prove.

"Don't worry, Tonks," said Robards, as if he was reading her mind. "You did good work today. We'll make sure Scrimgeour knows you were the one to take down two of our four targets. And a bloody good job you did of it too."

"Thanks," she said ruefully. She glanced over at Proudfoot. "And thanks for the warning about that bloke in the hall. If it wasn't for you, I could have had some arrows in my back, instead of just a dislocated shoulder."

"Anytime, Tonks," said Proudfoot. "I'm always happy to save a damsel in distress."

She rolled her eyes. "Go stuff it," she said. The three Aurors laughed.

"Do you feel up to Apparating?" asked Robards.

Tonks thought for a moment, wincing at every breath. "Don't think so," she said, shaking her head.

Robards nodded. "Proudfoot," he said, "you get her to St. Mungo's, and then bring back the MLE boys to help us out. I'll guard these buggers until you get back."

_Great,_ thought Tonks. _Now I have to go Side-Along like a little kid._ "Come on," she said. "Let's get it over with. And don't you dare gloat!" she said, when Proudfoot started to smirk at her.

In no time they arrived at the St. Mungo's front reception desk. "Hello, again, Miss Tonks," said the receptionist.

"Hello, Doris," said Tonks.

"Nothing serious this time, I hope?" said Doris.

"No," said Tonks, shaking her head. "A dislocated shoulder, and some bumps and bruises."

"Wonderful. They should have you fixed up in no time," said Doris.

"You'll be all right without me?" asked Proudfoot.

"I'm fine. Go get your MLE peons and get those wankers locked up, will you?" replied Tonks.

"No problem. See you tomorrow, Tonks." With a little wave, Proudfoot Disapparated away.

"So who's on call today, Doris?" asked Tonks.

"That would be Martin Eggers, Miss," said Doris. "I've sent word along. A Mediwitch should be out for you shortly."

"Excellent!" said Tonks.

She was glad Marty was on call. He'd been a chum of hers since Hogwarts. They'd been both been in Hufflepuff, and had lots of fun together, but lost touch after school. However, once she started making regular visits to St. Mungo's her injuries had more often than not been attended to by Marty. They'd revived their old friendship, and she'd even joined him and three other old classmates on social outings several times in the past few months. She'd far rather be treated by Marty than by old Madam Vector, or that stern bloke Fortescue. She could never understand how he could be so different from his ice-cream vending brother.

Soon enough an Assistant Mediwitch appeared, walked her back to an examination room, and helped her to remove her robes and shirt and put on an open-backed examination gown instead. She was surprised to see some blood on her shirt as she removed it. _Maybe my shoulder's worse than I thought?_ A few minutes later, Marty came in. "So here we are again, eh Tonks?" he said.

"Yeah. A nasty brute we were after finally broke my streak of injury-free assignments. I'd gone nearly a whole month! But I should have known it was too good to last."

"Did you at least take him down?" asked Marty.

"You're bloody right I did! He tackled me trying to get my wand, but I hit him with a good _Stupefy_ point blank. There's no dodging that."

Marty chuckled. "No, there certainly isn't."

"He went down like a log—but, unfortunately, he landed right on top of me. And he must have weighed as much as a hippogriff." She winced as she talked.

"Is that when you hurt your shoulder?" he asked. He was running his wand over her, doing some diagnostic spells as the talked.

"No," she said. "That happened when he tackled me. I fell against the corner of a table." She winced again as she took a deep breath.

Marty got a look of concern on his face. "My Assistant only told me about the dislocated shoulder—but you seem to be experiencing some other pain as well, aren't you?"

She nodded. "It hurts when I take deep breaths," she said. "I figured it was just a bad bruise."

"I think I'd like to take a closer look. Would you lie down, please?"

She lay back on the examination table, and pulled up the gown on one side to reveal the painful portion of her ribcage. Marty ran his wand over her ribs, chanting quietly to himself. After a minute he lowered his wand and said, "You've got two cracked ribs. He really must have weighed as much as a Hippogriff."

"Oh, he did. Believe me," she moaned, pulling her gown back down.

"Okay, let's get a look at that shoulder, now," he said, helping to sit back up.

He opened the back of her gown, and gently pushed it down to expose her injured shoulder.

"Ooo…" he said. "You got a bugger of a cut back here. But it's nothing a quick _Episkey_ won't take care of."

"That must have been from the corner of the table," she said. She felt some of the pain easing already.

"There. That's taken care of," he said, pulling her gown back up over her shoulder. "It's definitely dislocated. Marilyn," he said to the quiet girl hovering in the corner. "We'll need a pain-numbing draught, a bone-knitting solution, and a tube of bruise-healing paste." The girl nodded and stepped out into the hall.

"The spell to fix the dislocation is simple, but quite painful so I want to wait until the pain-numbing draught has taken effect before enacting it," he said.

"Thanks," she said. "The last thing I need right now is more pain. But I do have my own bruise-healing paste at my flat—it's a daily necessity for me."

"How much do you have?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She thought for a moment. "Actually—I think I'm almost out."

"How did I guess?" He smiled warmly at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Good old clumsy Tonks needs some more bruise-healing paste."

He leaned amiably against the table next to her. "I don't think you're clumsy."

Tonks gave him an arch look. "Come on, Marty. You've seen me dance. You can't not call me clumsy after that."

He shook his head. "No," he said. "You're not clumsy. You just don't always notice your surroundings when you're preoccupied."

"I must be constantly preoccupied, then."

"You're just thoughtful—pensive. Your mind is on higher things than mundane objects like tables and chairs, and vases."

She laughed. "Oh, don't remind me about that vase. How many times did I break it, in the end?"

"I lost count at thirty-three," he said with a grin.

"Oh, Merlin. Preoccupied is right," she said with a laugh.

The nurse returned with the prescribed remedies, and she quickly gulped down the bitter pain-numbing draught. Within seconds the throbbing pain in her shoulder and side had receded to a dull ache.

"Ready?" asked Marty, drawing his wand again.

"As I'll ever be," she replied, bracing herself.

A flash of blue light hit her shoulder, and with a distinct "pop" her joint slid back into its proper place. "Youch!" she exclaimed. "That hurt more than I was expecting!" She reached her other hand over to lightly massage the injured shoulder.

"And that was _with_ the pain-numbing draught," replied Marty. "Just imagine what it must feel like _without_ the potion."

"I don't even want to think about it. God bless Apothecaries, eh?"

"I'll drink to that. And speaking of drinking, you've still got your bone-knitting solution to get down."

She stuck out her tongue. "Blech. I can't stand that stuff."

Marty smiled. "It's better than having cracked ribs, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," she muttered, picking up the steaming cup. "Bottoms up," she said, and downed the brew in a few lusty gulps.

"Ughh," she said. "I think it's worse every time."

"Something to clear the taste away?" said Marty, conjuring a green lollipop and holding it out to her.

"Have I been a good little girl to earn my treat?" she asked.

"Good enough," said Marty, as she took the lollipop from him.

"Mmm. Minty."

"It's the best flavor to rid the aftertaste of foul potions."

"Thanks," she mumbled around the candy in her mouth.

"Do you want Marilyn's help with the bruise-healing paste?" he asked.

"No, thanks. I can manage," she replied.

"Well, then, you can go on home. I want you to take it easy for the rest of the day. Take a nap if you can. The ribs will take most of the night to finish knitting, and I don't want you to do anything to agitate them."

"So no Troll wrestling?" she asked.

"No. I'm afraid that's on the list of non-Healer-approved activities for the day."

"Okay, I'll just have to owl Lurg and cancel, then. But I'll have to blame you—and Lurg's got a nasty temper."

Marty laughed. "I think I can handle it." He paused. "I was actually meaning to owl you today," he said. "This morning I heard that there's an American troubadour going to play an acoustic set at the Dragon's Lair. He's supposed to be really fantastic. Emily, George, Thad and I are planning on going. I was wondering if you'd like to join us?"

"Sounds like fun. When is it?"

"Tomorrow night."

"Oh," she said. "I'm sorry, but I've already got plans for tomorrow night." _Very important plans—and nothing is going to interfere. __**Nothing**_

Marty looked disappointed. "That's too bad. I hear he's actually a graduate of Blue Sky, in Los Angeles."

"Ohh," said Tonks, in genuine disappointment. "I've never actually seen a Blue Sky graduate making a living off of the arts before. I'm sorry to miss it."

"If I hear of him playing any other gigs, I'll be sure to owl you."

"Do," she replied. "I'd like that."

They bid their goodbyes, and once she finished rubbing some bruise-healing paste into her various contusions, Tonks dressed, and headed home for some rest.

After a few hours on the sofa flipping through old magazines, she felt ready to scream. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was boredom. Just when she thought she was ready to go mad, she heard a tapping at her window.

She raised the window with a flick of her wand, and a grey owl swooped into her living room, dropping a large yellow sunflower into her lap before swooping out again.

With a curious grin, she picked up the flower and pulled off the note attached to its stem.

"Nymphadora," it read. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Wear something nice, and make sure you have an empty stomach. Yours, Remus."

A warm tingle crept through her whole body. She hugged the flower to her chest with a broad gin on her face.

Just like that, her boredom was banished. Now she could spend the rest of the evening wondering what to wear for Remus, and pondering what sort of outing he would surprise her with.

* * *

Remus paced back and forth across the parlor for what must be the hundredth time. He paused, glanced at the clock on the wall, and resumed his pacing. Sirius sat sprawled on a nearby sofa. He looked up from the magazine he was reading, and scowled. "Will you please stop that?" he said. "You're driving me crazy!"

"Sorry. Sorry," said Remus. He sat down in the nearest chair, leaned with his elbows on his knees, and started tapping his feet nervously, periodically glancing at the clock. Sirius took a deep breath. The past hour since Remus had returned from his shift doing guard duty outside the Department of Mysteries had been exceedingly frustrating. Remus may have finally gotten balls enough to ask Tonks on a date, but he was still acting like a complete Nancy about it.

"Will you just calm down!" said Sirius, tossing his magazine to the floor. "You're being bloody ridiculous about this whole thing. You already know she likes you. She spent more than an hour Sunday night snogging you, for God's sake. It's not like she's going to suddenly change her mind and walk out on you."

"I know that," said Remus. "I know that. I know that she likes me just as much as I like her. I know that we get along well, and we're never at a loss for things to talk about. I know that she's just as eager for this as I am. But I still can't help being nervous anyway. I haven't done this in nearly a decade! How could I not be nervous?"

As pleased as Sirius was back his two friends were finally moving on from unrequited crushes to snogging each other senseless, he was already getting sick and tired of Remus constantly venting his ridiculous insecurities to him. His life was frustrating enough already, without having to listen to an endless stream of, "But I'm not good enough for her... I have so little to offer her... She should be with someone her own age... It's been so long..." and any number of other ridiculous sentiments. It was time Remus woke up to reality and realized just how good he really had it.

"Oh yeah?" said Sirius. "Well it's been a bloody long time for me, too. And I wish like hell I was in your position. I wish that I had a pretty young witch falling all over me. I wish that I finally had a chance to overcome more than ten years of enforced celibacy. I wish that I could go out to fancy restaurants with beautiful women. But I can't do any of those things, now can I? And it really pisses me off to hear you acting as if all this is some sort of bleeding curse."

Remus looked back at him with wide eyes. "Good Lord, Sirius. I had no idea that was how I sounded. I'm so sorry."

Sirius looked at the ground, and shook his head. "It's okay," he said. "I'll survive. But you can't blame me for envying you, can you?"

"Not at all," said Remus. "I keep forgetting your feelings. It's awful of me, and there's no excuse."

"You're right," said Sirius, staring his friend down ferociously. "There isn't."

Remus nodded mutely in reply. Sirius continued, "If there's one thing that I've learned in the past fourteen years, it's that opportunities usually only come once. And if you don't take them when you get the chance, they'll probably never come again. And then you'll be really sorry. You and Tonks are fantastic together—anyone can see that. You have a real chance at happiness standing right there in front of you, and if you don't seize it, and make the most of it, then I will personally hunt you down and string you up by the balls for it. That's a promise."

Remus stared back at him. "Well then, when you put it like that I've no choice, have I? I simply have to fall in love with her."

His tone was sarcastic, but Sirius knew that there was more than a little truth to what Remus had said. In fact, from the look on his face, Sirius thought that he might finally be getting through to his friend. And it was about bleeding time.

"You know," said Remus suddenly. "I have it on good authority that Hestia Jones would be more than willing to have a go with you, if you fancied it."

Sirius sat up straight, blinking in astonishment. "Hestia? She hardly ever says two words together when I'm around!"

"It's just shyness. I'm sure she'd open up if you tried to make her more comfortable. Maybe a little wine—some soft music. I could help arrange it, if you'd like."

Sirius was at a loss for words. She was decent enough looking, he supposed, but how could any woman too shy to talk properly be worth his while? "I don't know," he said finally. "I'll have to think about it."

"You do that," said Remus. "And get back to me." He glanced at the clock again, and smiled. "Well, thanks to that lovely little diversion, it's now late enough that I can head for Tonks's flat without showing up too early and looking over-eager. Thank you."

"Anytime, mate," said Sirius, coughing uncomfortably. _Hestia?_ He'd never even considered her. She was hardly his dream girl, but it had been such a long time...

Sirius spent the first hour after Remus's departure flipping absently through some books. Then he went upstairs to visit Buckbeak for an hour. Then he headed back down to the drawing room, picked up a book, stared at for a moment, and then dropped it and started pacing.

A few minutes later he heard the front door opening, and footsteps coming down the hall. Bill Weasley peered through the door, and smiled. "Hi, Sirius. What are you doing?"

"Dying of boredom. Please tell me you you're here to entertain me?"

Bill laughed. "I was thinking more of entertaining myself, but if you benefit in the process, all the better." He came into the room, glancing around. "Where's Remus? Did Dumbledore send him off again?"

"Nope," said Sirius, flopping down in an armchair. "He's on a much pleasanter errand tonight."

"Oh?" Bill took a seat.

Sirius nodded. "He's escorting our lady Tonks out for a night on the town."

"Ohhhh. So that's finally happening, is it?"

"It is indeed."

"Emmeline will be happy to hear it. It's her week, isn't it?"

"Yes—but it actually started in Dung's week, so the pot ought to go to him."

Bill smiled. "Good for Dung."

"Good for Remus."

Bill laughed. "Now Tonks will just have to see if all her patience was worth it."

Sirius gave Bill a hard look. "Don't you have a girl of your own to be with right about now?"

Bill looked down and shrugged. "I was with her earlier."

"What? Is her company losing its appeal?"

Bill shook his head. "Just the opposite. Her company is far too appealing. I needed a little break to unwind."

Sirius was surprised. Was Bill saying what he thought he was saying? "Forgive the intrusion, but I thought the two of you were…you know?"

Bill sighed. "No. We're not. Fleur is an old-fashioned kind of girl. She's saving herself for marriage."

Sirius let out a long whistle. "Wow. Sorry, mate."

Bill leaned back and stretched out. "I'm not sorry."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. "Really?"

"Really. I had my fun in Egypt. I think I'm ready for something more serious."

Everyone seemed ready for something more serious. Everyone but him. Sirius tried to sound positive. "Good for you, good for you. So—do you think she might be the one?"

"Maybe. I'm going to France the day after Christmas to meet her family."

"Now that _is_ serious."

Bill nodded. The two men sat in silence for a few minutes. Bill never had been one for opening up much about his personal life. Which inevitably frustrated Sirius—gossip had become his primary form of entertainment, lately.

Finally, after the uncomfortable silence was becoming too much to bear, Bill said, "Care for a game of Exploding Snap?"

"Absolutely," said Sirius, jumping up to find the cards. Bill might not be good for gossip, but he was a truly wicked card player.

* * *

Tonks rose from her seat at the restaurant, and Remus helped her back into her cloak. She loved it when he acted like a gentleman, and treated her like a lady. Not many men thought of her as a lady, so she cherished the experience.

"Would you like to go walk off some of this dinner? Or is it too cold?" he asked.

"No," she said. "It's not too cold. And Lord knows I ate enough to feed a hippopotamus, tonight. I need to burn off some of those calories."

Remus had taken her to a magnificent little Bistro called "Cacao," which included chocolate—or cacao—in one form or another in all of its dishes, both savory and sweet. It was an extraordinary culinary experience which she wouldn't soon forget. And, much to her relief and delight, not only had the dinner been amazing, but their conversation had also been as enjoyable and easy as ever.

They left the restaurant and headed out into the cool night. Tonks pulled her cloak tight about her. Remus put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. "Can't have you freezing on me," he said. "Then who would help me finish _Taming of the Shrew_?"

"Sirius could always stand in for me."

"Oh, but snuggling on the sofa with Sirius is far less appealing then snuggling on the sofa with you."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"So," he said. "Our waiter interrupted you right when you were about to tell me about your adventure at work yesterday."

As they strolled aimlessly along the unfamiliar streets, she told him about the raid and her subsequent injury. These sorts of injuries had practically become a routine ever since her promotion to Junior Auror, but Remus was horrified.

"He threw you to the ground?!"

"Well, against a table, first, and then to the ground," she corrected.

Remus was wide eyed and practically sputtering. "Does this sort of thing happen every day?"

"Oh, no, no," she said. "Just once or twice a week."

"Why did you choose this career again?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because I believe in justice. Plus, all the action can be pretty fun. It really gets the adrenaline going."

Remus shook his head. "I always thought James and Sirius were crazy for wanting to be Aurors. Now I know I was right."

"Are you calling me crazy?" she asked in mock indignation.

"You're not Mad-Eye crazy, but you've made a good start."

She swatted him. "Just for that, I'm not going to kiss you again for the rest of the night."

He arched a grin at her. "Yes, you will." The husky confidence in his voice sent shivers down her spine.

The look of playful confidence on his face made it hard to maintain her resolve, but she couldn't back down that easily. "No, I won't."

He leaned over to whisper in her ear, his breath warm and tantalizing on her skin. "Yes, you will."

"What makes you so sure?" she said, smiling up at his warm brown eyes.

"Because a woman who didn't want to be kissed wouldn't have stuck her cold little hand up the back of my shirt while trying to get warm."

She glanced guiltily down at her arm, snaked up under his coat, to where her hand had made its way to the warm skin of his lower back. "Hmm. You might have a point there."

"Do I?" he said with a boyish grin on his face.

She nodded.

"Good," he said, leaning forward to brush his lips against hers. She responded to him eagerly, snaking her fingers through his thick hair, pulling her body closer to him with the hand still clutching his back. She felt like her whole body was on fire as his lips pulled away from hers and made their way down her neck, lingering in the spot where her neck curved into her shoulder. She gasped in pleasure. His mouth covered hers once more, and he pulled her tighter to him.

After another breathtaking minute, he pulled away, breathing heavily, and gently loosened his embrace. "I told you that you would kiss me," he whispered.

_And I didn't even put up a fight._ "Git," she muttered.

He laughed. "I'm lucky you like gits."

They walked for another half an hour before she finally decided that her high-heeled sandals were no good for long walks. After finding a secluded corner, out of sight of passers-by, they Apparated back to her building. He walked her up the stairs to the door of her flat. "So when do we do this again?" she asked.

He looked slightly crestfallen, and she couldn't fathom why. "Well," he began, "I'm afraid that I won't be able to take you any place like tonight for quite a while. In fact—based on my current cash-flow situation—June sounds about right."

Tonks frowned a little. She was both flattered and frustrated that he'd spent so much on their first night out together, but she needed to make him understand that it was his company she valued, not what money could or couldn't buy. "I'm not talking about the fancy dinner, you prat! I'm asking when can I go out with _you_ again?"

He looked sheepishly down at the ground with a bemused smile on his face, and then looked back up into her eyes with a delightful twinkle in his own. "How does Friday sound?"

She grinned. "Friday sounds just perfect."

"So—you won't mind that from here on out it'll be pubs and picnics and long walks for us, instead of anything fancy?"

"Of course I don't mind. Fancy dinners are nice from time to time, but when it really comes down to it, I'm more of a pub, picnic and long walk kind of girl."

"You don't have to say that just to make me feel better."

"I'm not. I'm saying it because I mean it."

"Thank you," he said, his eyes shining. He leaned in for another lingering kiss. When he finally pulled back, he shook his head in amazement. "I hope I never get used to that."

"Why?"

"Because I like it to feel like the first time, every time."

She could feel herself grinning like a besotted school-girl, and she didn't care. "Remus Lupin, you really are the most romantic thing that's ever happened to me."

"Me?" he replied, looking legitimately surprised.

"Yes, you." She pulled him down for another kiss.

A few minutes later, they parted. "I'll see you Friday," she said, slipping inside her flat. "If not sooner."

"If not sooner. Goodnight, Nymphadora."

"Goodnight."

**Author's Notes: **I'm so happy that you are all enjoying this romcom of mine as a nice break from the post-DH angst, and I plan on carrying it through all the way to the end of the OotP era. If you leave a review, Remus would be delighted to blow his budget treating you to a night at a fancy bistro--or, if you prefer, he'd be glad to share a picnic or a long walk. :)


	4. Chapter 4: Bad Luck, Good Luck

**Author's Notes: **Thanks again to my beta reader Shimotsuki for her help. The relationship between the Tonks and Malfoy families in this story is slightly AU in the post-DH world, but I liked it too much to cut it.

**Previously, in "Transformations":** Tonks is injured during an Auror-raid, and is treated by her old friend, Healer Martin Eggers. Sirius feels growing envy of Remus as Remus prepares for his first date with Tonks, and Bill keeps Sirius company while Remus is out. Remus and Tonks enjoy their first date.

Chapter 4: Bad Luck, Good Luck

"We were all very happy with your last translation, Remus," said Emmeline Vance. "Your grasp of the text and your seemingly effortless fluency were very impressive."

Remus grinned as he fetched some tea. "Thank you, Emmeline. I'm glad my work was up to your standard." He was still floating on a happy cloud the day after his evening with Nymphadora. Sirius had woken up in one of his dark moods, but it wasn't enough to bring Remus down, and his day only got better when Emmeline stopped by with an unexpected offer.

For several months Remus had been doing free-lance translation work for her publishing firm, Little Red Books. Emmeline was a Senior Vice President, and had pulled some strings to get him the work in spite of the restrictive new legislation that declared werewolfism to be valid and legal grounds for denying or terminating employment.

Sirius continued to skulk in the kitchen while Remus fetched some tea.

After a few opening pleasantries, Emmeline said,

"Above and beyond our standard, is more like it. So, do you think you're ready to take on a new project?"

"Of course I am! I'd be delighted to have the opportunity to continue working for you."

"Then you shall. We have a project for you to start immediately."

Remus beamed. "I can't thank you enough. I'm sure it wasn't easy convincing your associates to utilize me in the current political climate."

"It wasn't as hard as you might think. Besides, anything for a friend," she said with a warm smile.

"So what will I be translating this time?" he asked.

Emmeline looked down at her cup, and swirled its contents nervously. "Well—this isn't really in your area of expertise like the last set of books, but ever since his hospitalization we've been seeing higher demand for the translations of the works of—"

"Gilderoy Lockhart," Remus said simultaneously with her. His face fell. He'd avoided Lockhart's books with a passion, and now it seemed that he was going to be forced to study them with a depth that they certainly didn't deserve.

"You seem to have anticipated me," said Emmeline, with a smile. "I know you don't think much of the man, but his titles have always been some of our biggest sellers. We'd love to get out some more German translations by the summertime. We've already released his first five volumes in German, but the woman who translated them for us has since given birth to triplets, and decided to be a full-time mother. So we are in desperate need of someone with your talent for translation. Do say you'll do it?"

Remus sighed, and nodded his head. "I'll do it. But I can't say that I'll enjoy it."

"You will enjoy the pay check, I daresay. We've decided to raise your pay by three sickles a page."

Remus sat up straight. "Three sickles a page? That's nearly a forty percent raise!"

Emmeline smiled. "It is. But keep in mind that Lockhart's works will sell much better than those academic books we had you working on before. So the pay reflects that."

Remus didn't know what to say. "Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me. Thank you."

"Like I said, Remus, anything for a friend. We'll want you to start with _Voyages with Vampires_. I'll get you the working manuscript and your employment contracts tomorrow."

After Emmeline left for the night, Remus's head started spinning with the thought of his new earnings. He wouldn't get them for several months—not until the translation was complete, but it was still a tantalizing prospect. With his last pay-check from Little Red Books he had managed to pay off nearly all of his old debts, so most of the pay from the new project would be his to spend as he chose. One of the first thoughts that came to his mind was that he'd actually be able to afford to buy Nymphadora a proper birthday present. But her birthday wasn't until the end of February. _Am I already thinking of this relationship in terms of months? Is she?_

Remus went to bed with those thoughts still swirling in his mind.

The next evening, Nymphadora came by after work. It was amazing to him how easily they fell into their old pattern of relaxing with Sirius in the parlor. Bill and Dung also came by, and they all took up their usual banter and casual conversation. Only this time, instead of lounging on the sofa, Nymphadora sat on the floor in front of him and leaned back against his legs. And instead of keeping his hands very cautiously to himself, he gave in to the temptation to start casually running his fingers through her hair. And she just as casually reached up to take one of his hands in hers, to stroke the back of his hand with her thumb.

Dung made sure to thank them—bawdily and repeatedly—for his winnings from the betting pool.

Friday morning, Remus awoke without any of the sense of nervousness that he had had the day of their first date. Instead, all he felt was eager anticipation.

Just before Remus left to pick Nymphadora up at her flat, Sirius shot him a playful look. "You'd better be careful, tonight, mate," he said.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Are you finally getting protective of your cousin?"

"That's not what I meant by careful," he replied. "Today's Friday the thirteenth. You might be in for some bad luck, if you're not careful. Maybe you should stay in instead."

Remus shook his head. "I'm not superstitious. The whole idea of Friday the thirteenth is nothing but a myth."

"I don't know, mate. I've heard some pretty convincing evidence," said Sirius, tossing his wand up and down in the air.

"I think I'll take my chances."

"Okay. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Remus just shook his head, and headed for the door. As he reached it, a black cat appeared out of thin air, yowled, arched its back, and walked across the doorway in front of him. He turned to look back at Sirius. "Very funny," he said. Sirius just laughed.

Remus picked up Nymphadora at her flat without further incident, and the couple shared a quiet meal at the Leaky Cauldron. He had taken his first look at _Voyages with Vampires_ earlier that day, and he was able to share a few of the more amusing passages with her. In return, she told him about a developing case in which a series of very dangerous anti-Muggle booby traps had gone off, sending eight Muggles to the hospital. They still hadn't found any likely suspects.

After they finished their meal, they took a stroll down Diagon Alley. As they passed quality Quidditch supplies, Nymphadora said, "Let's pop in here. I've heard that the Cleansweeps have a new model out. I'd love to take a look."

"Certainly," said Remus. "Do you plan on playing for the Magical Law Enforcement team again next year?"

She shrugged. "Don't know," she said. "With things going the way they are, I probably won't have time."

Remus nodded quietly in agreement. It was frustrating to think that the war had barely begun, and that an end was still nowhere in sight. Their lives might not be normal again for many years to come.

They admired the new Cleansweep for several minutes, discussing its merits and shortcomings. Just as they were turning to leave, the door of the shop opened and a young couple strode in. The young man froze, as did Nymphadora. They stared at each other in surprise. Nymphadora spoke first. "Hello Simon. It's been a long time."

"Hello, Nym," he replied. _Nym? Who in the world calls her Nym?_ "How are you?"

"Good," she said. "More than good. And you?"

"Very good. Very, very good," he said, putting his arm around the waist of the young brunette woman standing next to him. He had close-cropped blond hair, and though somewhat short, had a well-defined athletic build. He looked to be close to Nymphadora's age—maybe a year or two older.

"Um, Nym, let me introduce you to Daphne. Daphne, this is Tonks," he said.

"Good to meet you," said Tonks, reaching out to shake the young woman's hand.

"Good to meet you, too," said Daphne.

"This is Remus. Remus, Simon," said Tonks.

"A pleasure," said Remus, shaking Simon's hand. He had a firm, strong grip.

"We were just checking out the new Cleansweep," said Tonks. "Were you on the development team?"

Simon nodded with a broad smile. "I was. And they were happy enough with my work that I was just promoted to Assistant Head of Development."

"Well done!" said Nymphadora. "I'm happy for you. It's what you've always wanted."

He nodded. "It is. And while we're sharing happy news," he paused, "Daphne and I are going to be married. We just got engaged last week."

A look of shock and hurt briefly crossed Nymphadora's face before she recovered herself, and smiled. "Congratulations Simon! Daphne! That's wonderful!" She stepped forward and gave quick hugs to both of the young couple.

"Thanks," said Simon, his face a little red. "It's still so new that we haven't even set a date yet."

"I'd like a June wedding," said Daphne, "but Simon wants to wait for October."

"Why wait?" said Nymphadora. "The sooner the better, I say."

Daphne smiled, but Simon looked at the ground uncomfortably.

"Well," said Nymphadora, "I wish you the best with your plans. It was nice seeing you."

"Nice to see you, too, Nym," said Simon, with a straight face.

Nymphadora wound her arm tightly around Remus's elbow. "Let's get out of here," she muttered quietly.

Once they had reached the street again, Remus looked down at Nymphadora who was frowning and still clutching tightly to his arm. "Would you care to explain that little scene to me?" he asked.

"He's my ex," she said.

"Is he the one who…?"

"The one I almost got engaged to? Yeah. That's him." She continued to frown, and wasn't meeting his eyes.

Remus felt his stomach twisting in a knot. She had never spoken much of the men in her past, but he knew that she had only had one long-lasting serious relationship, and that relationship had gotten as far as talking about marriage. And now he'd seen him. The man who broke her heart. Based on her reaction to the news of his engagement, Remus was afraid that she might not be over him yet.

"She couldn't have been more than nineteen, could she?" said Nymphadora suddenly.

"No. She certainly looked less than twenty," he replied mechanically. What was he even doing here with her? He was nothing like the handsome, young, gainfully employed man that they had just encountered. _I'm the rebound relationship_, he thought mournfully. _She needed a complete change of pace to get over him, and she chose me. This won't last. Soon enough, she'll have had enough of me, and move on to someone else more like _him.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry for being such a grump," she said, looking up at him with a hesitant smile. "He just caught me by surprise. I shouldn't let it ruin our evening."

Remus nodded mutely. He wasn't sure he could trust himself to speak. "Hold on," said Nymphadora, pulling him to a stop. "You're not…You don't think I still…? You're not jealous? Are you?" She looked incredulous.

Remus's mouth hung open. "I don't…No. No. Of course not," he lied.

"You are. You're jealous! I never took you for the jealous type, Remus," she said, suddenly smiling.

Why was this something to smile about? "There are plenty of things you still don't know about me."

"Apparently," she said, still smiling. "And you don't know everything about me either. I didn't get upset because I still have feelings for Simon. Because I don't," she said firmly. "I got upset because seeing him reminds me of what a silly little love-struck fool I was with him, and I never want to be like that again. Do you want to know why we broke up?" she asked.

He gave a little nod. "If you want to tell me."

"We broke up," she said, "because what he really wanted was a little brood-mare to stay at home and have his babies. And he failed to inform me of this fact until right before I took the final Auror qualifying exams." He could hear the ire rising in her voice. "He thought he could have it all—a strong, confident, ambitious woman, and a happy little homemaker all in the same package. He wanted me to give up on my dream after three years of back-breaking work in the training program! And he seemed to think I'd be happy to do it! And no, he didn't chuck me. I chucked him. Every time I see him I remember how infuriating he is, and I get angry. That is the only reason I got grumpy just now. Okay?"

"Okay!" said Remus, stunned at her vehemence.

"So you have absolutely no cause to feel jealous," she said. Her smile danced back around the corners of her lips. "But it's really sweet that you were."

"Sweet?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. He felt his own smile returning.

"Yes, sweet. I'm not the type of girl that blokes usually get jealous over."

The twinkle had returned to her eyes. "You are just the type of girl that I could easily get insanely jealous over," he said. His voice was playful, but his sentiment was completely honest.

"Oh really?" she said, moving close to him, a now familiar desire burning in her eyes.

"Really," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.

Just as he was pulling her close to deepen their kiss, a harsh, mocking laugh interrupted them. They pulled apart, and looked in the direction of the laughter. It was Lucius Malfoy.

"Please," he said, "don't let me disrupt your touching display." His sneering voice made the hairs on the back of Remus's neck stand up.

"Maybe you should try minding your own business, for a change," retorted Nymphadora angrily.

"Temper, temper Nymphadora," said Lucius, striding closer to them. He grinned foully. "I think it is very much my business when my own niece chooses to bestow her affections on a dangerous creature."

Nymphadora's face grew hard, and she started forward. "How dare you! The only _creature_ here is the one I'm looking at!" She stared hard at Lucius.

"This, coming from a shapeshifter. How ironic," he said.

Nymphadora seemed ready to reach for her wand. Remus took her by the elbow. "Let it go, Tonks," he said. "He's not worth it."

Lucius laughed again. "How droll! The werewolf seems to fancy himself better than me. What does your mother think of this little fetish of yours?" Lucius continued to ignore Remus, addressing all of his comments directly to Nymphadora.

Her lips tightened. "My personal life is none of my mother's business," she said.

"So you haven't told her yet?" said Lucius. "Should I be the one to do the honors? Or shall I let you surprise her yourself?"

"You stay out of this Lucius—or so help me…"

"You'll what? Trip and fall on me?"

Nymphadora was dangerously red, and her wand arm was still tensed. Remus decided it was time to step in. "We've had enough of this. Come on, Tonks. Let's go."

"I'll be seeing you," said Lucius to Nymphadora as Remus led her away.

Once they had gotten out of his earshot, Nymphadora spoke up. "Insufferable prig! Hideous snob! How dare that Death Eater murderer call _you_ a creature! He's the creature!"

"I can't disagree. His acquittal was the biggest fiasco of the last war."

They walked in silence for another moment, as Nymphadora silently fumed. One of her Order assignments was to conduct surveillance on Malfoy and his family. Remus knew that the task hadn't been easy for her. He was beginning to see why.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "Tonight hasn't exactly gone how I planned."

"No one could have _planned_ this," said Nymphadora. "This is what you expect from nightmares—not window shopping."

They were passing the Magical Menagerie, and a black cat sat preening itself in the window. Remus halted abruptly, and Tonks stopped to look back at him.

"What is it?" she asked as a smile formed on his face.

"Sirius warned me not to take you out tonight."

"Why?"

"It's Friday the thirteenth."

Nymphadora smiled, and then started to laugh. "We've certainly had our fair share of bad luck."

"I'll second that."

"Perhaps we should head home before we have any more."

They spent the last hour of their evening together pleasantly ensconced on Nymphadora's sofa, listening to the Wizarding Wireless together, and their bad luck seemed to have been left behind in Diagon Alley. But Remus couldn't help but let the events of the evening leave some lingering doubts in his mind. What would Andromeda Tonks think of her daughter's new relationship—especially if she heard of it from Lucius Malfoy?

And despite Nymphadora's reassurances, he continued to wonder why she was with him, instead of another man like Simon.

* * *

As she often did, Andromeda spent her Saturday morning shopping at Diagon Alley. Just as she was coming out of Monique's—her favorite home décor boutique—she saw a familiar face across the street outside of Flourish and Blotts.

She started across the street. "Martin?" she called. "Martin Eggers?"

The young Healer turned to look at her. "Mrs. Tonks. How are you?"

"I'm wonderful," she said, shaking his hand. "How are you doing?"

"Very well, thanks," he said. "It's nice to see you again."

"The pleasure is all mine," she replied. Yes, he was a very handsome young man. And Healers made very good salaries. Her daughter was finally on the right track with this one.

"How is Tonks doing?" he asked. "I hope her shoulder isn't giving her any more trouble?"

Andromeda was taken aback. "Her shoulder?"

"Didn't she tell you? She dislocated her shoulder earlier this week, during a raid."

Andromeda hated when she was reduced to gleaning information about her daughter's life from third parties. If only the girl would realize that these were the sorts of things mothers wanted to know, their relationship would be so much easier. "She hadn't mentioned it. But then, she doesn't like to worry me about her little injuries—she already knows how nervous her job makes me."

Martin smiled. "I can understand. It's not the safest of occupations. But she's quite good at it. I treat lots of the injuries for the Auror squad, and I assure you that hers have been minor in comparison to some. And they all speak very highly of her."

Andromeda smiled. Yes, this was just the sort of solid, practical, tactful man her daughter needed. "Thank you, Martin. That's very nice to hear."

"You're welcome."

"Martin," she said. "Do you have any plans for New Years Eve?"

He looked a bit surprised, but answered quickly. "Not yet."

"Well, Ted and I always have a party at our home, and we always like to invite some of Nymphadora's friends to join us so that she doesn't feel surrounded by old fuddy-duddies all night. I was wondering if you would like to come this year?"

Martin looked indecisive, so she decided to sweeten the pot. "I know she isn't planning on bringing anyone, so it would be nice for her to have a friend there to keep her company."

That caught his attention. "She's really going alone?" he asked.

Andromeda shook her head. "I'm afraid she's been so caught up in work lately that she's been neglecting herself. It would be so nice to have you come and remind her what she's missing." She knew she was being too obvious, but he certainly seemed interested.

At last, he nodded thoughtfully. "Yes…I'm fairly certain that I can come."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'll send you a formal invitation sometime next week."

"Thank you, Mrs. Tonks."

"I'm so glad we ran into each other, Martin," said Andromeda.

"Yeah, me too."

They bid each other goodbye. As she headed back down Diagon Alley, she swung her shopping bags happily. Yes—today was turning out to be a very good day indeed.

* * *

Work had kept Tonks away from Remus all of Saturday, and she was desperate to see him. She could tell that the Friday night fiasco had really shaken his confidence, and she was eager to reassure him. As early as it seemed polite on Sunday, she headed over to Grimmauld Place.

She let herself in, and poked her head into the parlor to see if he was there. She was shocked to see him wearing a traveling cloak, shoving a book and some sheaves of parchment into a small trunk sitting on the sofa.

"Remus? What's going on?"

He to look at her as he shut and latched the trunk. "I'm so glad to see you—I was afraid we'd miss each other."

"Miss each other? What's wrong?" She stepped toward him, wondering what had happened.

"Nothing's wrong—but some urgent business has come up. I received word from Dumbledore early this morning that I'm needed in Europe. The Austrian Ministry of Magic has arrested a man suspected of funneling funds to the Death Eaters, and spreading propaganda on their behalf. One of Dumbledore's friends in their Council of Warlocks has granted him permission to send one of his representatives to participate in the interrogations. And he chose to send me."

"Because you're the only one fluent in German."

He nodded tersely. "I may be gone for several days. I wanted to tell you in person. In fact, I was about to leave for your flat when you got here."

"I'm glad I made it before we crossed paths."

"So am I." The look in his eyes was intense. He closed the remaining distance between them, and took her in his arms, kissing her hungrily on the mouth. His kisses never failed to make her insides feel like they were melting, and her brain feel like it was floating in the clouds.

When he finally pulled back, she wobbled on her feet, and put her arms more tightly around him, leaning into him for a warm hug.

"I'll miss you," he said softly into her hair.

"I'll miss you too," she replied. She had missed him every time Dumbledore had sent him away on assignment these past months, but she was certain it would be even worse now.

"Hurry home," she said, looking back into his eyes.

"I will," he said, and kissed her again.

* * *

By noon on Monday Tonks was already missing Remus terribly. She knew he would be back by the end of the week, but five days seemed far too long.

Just as she was returning to her desk after lunch, an owl fluttered up to her. She took the note attached to its leg, and read. "Tonks—I just found out that that American troubadour I was telling you about is playing another set tonight, at a little pub in Edinburgh. He was really fantastic, and I'm thinking of catching him again, but none of my usual crowd can make it. Would you like to go? –Marty."

Tonks smiled. This would be the perfect distraction from her thoughts of Remus. She quickly scribbled a reply, agreeing to go. He sent an owl back, telling her to meet him outside St. Mungo's at nine o'clock. Her day went much faster now that she had something to look forward to.

That night, she met Marty, and they Apparated to Edinburgh together. "This is a great place," she said as they entered the pub, "but I haven't been here in years. I just haven't had time."

"Well, I'm glad you have time tonight," said Marty. They found a table not far from the stage, and Marty got them some beers.

The troubadour really was fantastic. Tonks was sure that he had placed some sort of charm on his guitar to make it sound like four instruments were playing at once—and she heartily approved. What was the point of being both a wizard and a musician if you couldn't use one to benefit the other?

As always, Marty was fun to talk to. He kept her amused with stories of some of his crazier patients—all anonymous, of course, though one of them sounded suspiciously like Mundungus Fletcher. When it was her turn to buy the next round, she stood up and went to the bar.

"Tonks!" exclaimed a familiar voice.

She looked to her side, and saw her old friend and former Quidditch captain, Eddy Balfour. "Eddy! I didn't see you here!"

"We're sitting in a booth in the back," he said, indicating the direction. "I thought that was you up front. Funny running into you again so soon," he said. They had last encountered each other less than two weeks earlier at the Weird Sisters concert.

"Isn't it?"

"Say," said Eddy, gesturing at Marty, "weren't you with a different bloke last time?"

"Oh—yes. Remus and I are still together," she said hastily. "But he's out of the country on business. Marty and I just came as friends."

"That's cool."

"And is your fiancée here?"

"No. Felicia is taking a girl's night out with her friends, so I'm here with a couple of mates."

"Sounds like fun," said Tonks, nodding as the bartender brought her the pints she had ordered.

"Yeah, yeah," said Eddy. He glanced around and then leaned in closer to her. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you."

_Oh damn,_ she thought. _He had better not be hitting on me after we just finished discussing our significant others._

"What is it?" she said, in as neutral a tone as she could muster.

"It's just…" He paused, and then lowered his voice. "I don't think I believe everything I read in the paper, these days. You know—about Dumbledore, and Harry Potter. I was there, in the stands, at the end of the Tri-wizard tournament. I saw him show up with Diggory's body. He didn't look like a kid playing games to get attention. It was more than that. And I don't think he's crazy either. When I heard that he was saying it was You-Know-Who, I was ready to believe him. But then Fudge came out against him. And the Prophet started running all these stories. And each story is more unbelievable than the last—it's almost like reading the Quibbler, these days." Eddy shook his head, while Tonks listened in stunned silence.

All of the members of the Order were supposed to be on the constant look-out for potential recruits, but she had been so caught up in her own little world with Remus and Sirius, that she'd never thought to look beyond her work associates to seek recruits among her old friends. And here was Eddy, telling her that he'd been doubting Fudge since the beginning of last summer. _I've been a blind fool._

"I don't know what to believe anymore," Eddy continued. "I was hoping that as an Auror, you might be able to tell me what's really been going on."

She returned his intense gaze. This was the moment where she had to be most careful. "As a loyal Auror," she said, "it is my duty to tell you that I support and uphold the policies and positions of the Minister and his administration. However," she paused, "as a person of principle, and as your friend, I have to tell you that Fudge is full of shite, and you shouldn't believe a damn word that he or his propaganda department churn out."

Eddy's face grew somber, and his grip on his glass tightened. "So you believe that You-Know-Who really is back?"

She nodded tersely. "And I'm not the only one. There are people, acquaintances of mine, who aren't waiting for the Minister's approval to start defending our country, and our way of life. Are these," she felt her mouth going dry, "are these the sort of people you'd been interested in knowing more about?"

Eddy stared at her hard for a moment before answering. "Yeah. Yeah I would."

"Are you free later this week?"

He looked down at his drink, and then said, "I can get away Wednesday night." He looked back up, waiting for a reply.

She was supposed to sit guard duty by the Department of Mysteries Wednesday night, but this was an opportunity too good to pass up. "I'll be there," she said. "I'll owl you tomorrow with the specifics of when and where."

Eddy nodded. "I'm glad we ran into each other," he said.

"Me too."

They parted, and returned to their separate tables. "Hey," said Marty. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "Everything's fine. I just ran into an old friend."

"Oh." She looked hard at Marty, suddenly wondering how many other of her old friends would be sympathetic to the Order's cause.

"Marty?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever given much thought to the things that Dumbledore has been saying about You-Know-Who?"

Marty looked at her in astonishment. "I…haven't given it too much thought. I don't usually have time to read the paper."

"Could you start thinking about it? Please? What he's been saying—it's important. It might be the most important thing happening in the world right now. I would mean a lot to me if you would look into it, and give it a little thought."

Marty still looked surprised, but he also seemed to be listening to her seriously. "Okay," he said. "I'll look into it." He hesitated before continuing. "You know my parents are Muggles, and I didn't grow up knowing about the war. To me this world of ours has always seemed like someplace special—some place exempt from the sort of violence and war that Muggles face every day." He paused again. "Was I wrong?" He sounded almost like a little boy, facing the fact that there was no Santa Claus for the first time.

"I'm sorry, Marty," was all she could think to say.

He nodded quietly. "Okay. Okay."

They remained silent for quite a while after that—listening to the music, and lost in thought.

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading! If you leave a review, Remus might casually run his fingers through your hair, or even give you a lingering kiss goodbye.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes:** As ever, thanks go to my beta reader Shimotsuki for her help. sigh Once again, it's been nearly a month since I updated. Sorry y'all. Here it is.

**Previously, in "Transformations":** Remus gets a job offer from Emmeline. Remus takes Tonks out for their second date on Friday the 13th and they have some unlucky encounters with her ex-boyfriend and Lucius Malfoy. Andromeda invites Healer Martin Eggers to her New Year's Eve party in hopes of setting him up with Tonks. Remus is called away on Order business. While he is away, Tonks goes out as friends with Martin, and runs into another old friend, Eddy, who is interested in learning more about the Order.

Chapter 5: Interrogations, Secrets, and Visions

As soon as Remus arrived in Austria he met with Stephan Adler, Dumbledore's contact in Austrian Magical Law Enforcement, for a briefing on their suspect.

"His name is Mandel Varick," said Adler, handing Remus a file. "He's the final heir of an ancient house that had been in decline for the last two generations. He's a known malcontent and rabble rouser—we've had reports on him for years. He finally crossed the line when he held a "Death Eater recruitment party" in his home."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Death Eater recruitment party?"

Adler nodded. "I wouldn't have believed it either, if there weren't so many credible witnesses. They say that Varick went on and on about the return of the Dark Lord, and the coming ascendancy of the purebloods. He even went so far as to brazenly roll up his sleeves, and his show off his new dark Mark. That's when one of the Undersecretaries of Magical Law Enforcement finally lost her patience."

Remus chuckled. "He invited law enforcement officials to his Death Eater party?"

Adler nodded. "Varick is not the brightest of men. The Undersecretary placed him under arrest for sedition and conspiracy."

Remus shook his head in astonishment as he continued to thumb through the file. Varick was clearly a fool, but a stubbornly loyal one. He was delighted to run on about the Dark Lord's coming and his expected cleansing of Mudbloods from the government, but he had revealed nothing about how he had obtained his Dark Mark, or to whom he had been sending large amounts of money for the past few months. He had willingly admitted to raising the money from like-minded wizards, and the managers of the Austrian branch of Gringotts acknowledged that he had been depositing the funds in his account and transferring them to accounts in the London branch. However, the goblins refused to supply the names of the account holders who were receiving the funds.

Remus had arrived too late in the evening on Sunday to participate in any of the interrogations that day.

"We're still working on getting you permission to sit in on the interrogations," said Alder. "Dumbledore's name still means something around here, and he's requested this as a personal favor. But there's still the bureaucracy standing in the way. I'll leave this file with you, and as soon as the permission comes through, I'll let you know."

Remus nodded, and Adler left him to continue his perusal of the file. Unfortunately, permission didn't come until late the next day, and Remus was left to wander the city alone. It was a beautiful city full of wonderful medieval architecture and plenty of character. He found himself wishing he could have brought Nymphadora along. But surely it was far too early for holidays together—wasn't it?

Once Remus was finally granted permission, there was some other good news to go with it. The Austrian Magical Judicial Authority was considering granting Magical Law Enforcement the right to interrogate Varick under the influence of Veritaserum. By Tuesday afternoon, they were ready.

The interrogation took place in a dark, stone-walled dungeon room. Remus, being nothing more than a visitor, sat in a chair against the back wall while several Austrian officials conducted the interrogation. Varick was brought in, and magically bound to a hard wooden chair. Not knowing that the beverage they offered him contained Veritaserum, he willingly drank it. A few moments later, his whole body relaxed, and his eyes took on a glazed and vacant look.

"Who burned the Dark Mark on your arm?" asked one official.

"The Dark Lord himself," replied Varick.

"We have been told," said another official, "that the rumors of the Dark Lord's return are just that: rumors. What makes you so certain that he is really back?"

"I saw him with my own eyes," said Varick. "I heard his voice with my own ears. I felt his power descend upon my mind. He is the same man I saw so many years ago with my own father. I have no doubt that it is he. The Dark Lord has returned." The room filled with whispered comments as the officials digested this news. Varick's father had been a known Death Eater, and had been killed by Austrian Aurors at the end of the last war.

The first official stepped forward again. "Did you see any of the Death Eaters that served him?"

"Yes," replied Varick.

"Can you tell us any of their names?"

"No," Varick said, as he shook his head. "They were all wearing masks." The official frowned in frustration.

"Have you been in contact with any of these Death Eaters?" said the official.

"Yes."

"What are their names?"

Varick shook his head again. "I do not know. Always we use aliases and codes. I know none of their names."

Remus could sense that the tension and frustration in the room was increasing. Varick was clearly involved in Death Eater schemes, but it was equally clear that he had not been trusted with any crucial information.

The second official spoke again. "To whom have you been sending money?"

"To lots of people."

"Can you name them for us? Can you provide their aliases or the way you identify their accounts?"

"I donate to charities," replied Varick.

"What charities?"

"The Society for the Protection of Pure Bloodlines, and the Pure Blood Orphans Fund. I transfer money to their accounts in Gringotts of London." The buzz of low conversation in the room grew excited. Finally, this was information worth having.

"Do you send money to anyone else?"

"Yes. To Tibbs."

"Who is Tibbs?"

"Tibbs is power. Not power like the Dark Lord. Tibbs is money power. He is power on the streets. He runs brothels. He got me some very nice girls while I was in England. Both Moonies, but very nice."

Remus was startled at the unusual use of his old nickname. Was there really a group associated with dark wizards calling themselves the "Moonies?"

"What are Moonies?" asked the official.

"Members of the Brotherhood of the Full Moon. But these were no brothers," he chuckled. "They were very much sisters."

"And what is this_Brotherhood_?"

"An organization—a syndicate. They call themselves entrepreneurs. But all they are is a bunch of petty crooks and werewolves. The Dark Lord will have nothing to do with such rabble once he has risen to his full power—but for now, they serve his purpose."

Remus felt a chill shoot down his spine at the mention of werewolves. Voldemort had been known to have a few werewolf followers at the end of the first war, but the Order had not yet suspected that he was once more enlisting their help. _Moonies. Are they all werewolves, or just a few? How long has this organization been in operation? How extensive are its activities?_ Remus had dozens of questions that he wanted to ask, but he knew he wouldn't be given the chance—if he tried to butt in, he would likely be asked to leave. So he bit his tongue.

"What do this Brotherhood of the Full Moon, and Tibbs, do for the Dark Lord?"

"Tibbs and his Moonies give the Dark Lord and his followers money, safe houses, food, girls. Whatever they want."

"Is Tibbs a Death Eater?"

"No. Just the Chief."

"Who is the Chief?"

"Tibbs is the eyes, and the brains. The Chief is the fists and the feet. They say he was only part of a street gang fifteen years ago, when Tibbs found him. And they say that Tibbs was just a petty crook, and a pimp. But together, Tibbs and the Chief are power. They are the power of the streets."

The official drew closer to Varick. "And this Chief is a Death Eater."

"Yes."

"Have you ever met him?"

"No."

"Have you met Tibbs?"

"No."

"Then how do you know these things about them?"

"I talk. I talked to the Moonies in the brothel. Such lovely girls."

The official backed away, shaking his head in frustration. "This man is as obtuse on Veritaserum as he is off it!"

The thought that a Death Eater was one of the top men in a werewolf criminal organization left Remus feeling shaken to the bone. Whatever this group was doing, it had been doing completely outside of the knowledge of the Wizarding World—probably for quite some time. This was something that the Order had never expected.

The officials tried several more lines of questioning, but were able to get nothing more substantial out of Varick. Finally, they gave up, and sent him back to his cell.

As the group of officials disbanded, Remus sought out Stephan Adler. "What's going to happen now?" he asked.

Adler sighed. "Not enough, I'm afraid. Until the British authorities are willing to admit to the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, all we can formally charge him with is Fraud. He'll be out of prison in less than two years."

Remus shook his head. "Damn Fudge. None of this would be necessary if he would just wake up, and open his eyes to what is really happening."

"I know. Our own Minister is a bit more reasonable. But in general, politicians are not known for their reason."

"No, they most certainly are not. And what will you do with information about the charities? And Tibbs and the Chief?" asked Remus.

"We'll pass the information along to the British Magical Law Enforcement. It is up to them to act on it from there," said Adler.

Remus nodded ruefully. "So nothing will come of it, then."

Adler shrugged. "Who knows? Besides, you will pass it on to Dumbledore. Something may come of that, _ja_?"

"It will if I have anything to do with it," said Remus. "Thank you for all your help."

Adler reached forward to shake Remus's hand. "For Dumbledore, anything. Never hesitate to ask. And if we get anything more out of him, I'll be sure to pass it along."

"Thank you."

Remus left the Austrian Ministry still brooding with frustration. If werewolves really were lending their support to the Dark Lord, it would only serve to worsen the plight of honest and loyal werewolves everywhere. Remus had learned long ago that bad actions by one werewolf were almost inevitably looked on with such horror by the Wizarding World that all werewolves would be made to suffer for it. If this really was happening, Remus felt that he ought to find it and work with the Order to stop it before the Ministry ever learned what was happening. Otherwise, the anti-werewolf laws would go from bad to worse.

His day had left him with more questions than answers, but at least he had one thing to look forward to—before returning to England he was going to pay a visit to some old friends.

Remus spent the night in Austria, and in the morning he made the tiring multi-Apparition trip to his final destination –Bern, Switzerland. When he arrived he was welcomed with open arms by his old friends, Sophie and Laurent Jouteur. He had worked with Sophie and Laurent for more than two and a half years as an associate researcher at the research institute of which Laurent was the director. It was the only job of any duration, other than his stint at Hogwarts, in which his employers had known from the start about his condition.

The Institute studied the magical flora and fauna of Southeast Europe, and Laurent was one of the continent's foremost magical creatures experts. He was the last person in the world to harbor a prejudice against werewolves. Sophie and Laurent had gone out of their way to accommodate Remus's condition. They had arranged for all of his field assignments to take place in between full moons, and had provided him with a secure chamber in which to transform. Remus's happy employment there had to come to an abrupt end when a disgruntled former employee had taken a list of grievances to the wealthy financiers of the Institute. At the top of his list was the fact that Laurent had shown preference to the only nonhuman in his employ. The financiers had contacted Laurent, and insisted that—among other things—Remus be sacked immediately, or their funding would be cut. Remus, knowing that Laurent would fight for him, had resigned. He had had no desire to undermine the careers of his friends for his own sake. He had lost his job at the Institute a year and a half before Dumbledore offered him the position at Hogwarts. Throughout the intervening years, Remus had kept in close touch with Laurent and Sophie. They had, in many ways, become surrogate parents to him.

They spent the afternoon catching up on all the goings-on at the Institute. Then, Remus filled them in on all the activities of the order. They had already committed to helping Dumbledore's cause months ago. "I only wish we could help more," said Sophie with a sigh. "I half wish that a gang of Death Eaters would move into the neighborhood, just so I could report them to you."

Remus shook his head. "I know what it is like to move in a community riddled with Voldemort supporters. Trust me, you don't want it."

That evening, they enjoyed a sumptuous dinner prepared by Sophie. Afterward, they settled down in the cozy living room, to enjoy some coffee. "So Remus," said Laurent, "I could not help but notice that there was one topic you avoided rather cleverly all afternoon."

Remus smiled. "And what is that?"

"Your personal life, of course!" said Sophie. "And you have never avoided telling us about your friends before today. When you were in the bathroom, Laurent and I developed a little theory."

"Oh really?" said Remus, raising an eyebrow. He suspected that he knew what was coming.

"Yes," said Laurent. "I was saying to Sophie—_Sophie, why won't Remus tell us about his friends?_ And she said to me—_There must be a friend that he is nervous to tell us about._ So I reply—_Why would he ever be nervous about one of his friends._ And do you know what she said to that? She said…"

"That you must be in love," finished Sophie, with a smile on her face. "So have I guessed correctly? Has some lucky woman finally captured your heart?"

Remus looked down at his hands, circling the coffee cup. He felt sheepish, and excited, all at the same time—like a teenager talking about his first crush. He nodded. "You're pretty close to the mark. I'm not sure if I'm in love, but I might be on my way there." He paused, pondering what he had just said. Was it love? Had it already gone that far? It made sense. After all, she had already become his best friend months before they began their romance—so wouldn't moving from the fraternal love of best friends to the more amorous feelings of lovers be an easy and natural step?

He wasn't sure that was something he was ready for quite yet. But could he really stop it from happening if it had already started?

Laurent chuckled. "Well done, my boy. Well done."

"I'm so happy for you!" exclaimed Sophie, clasping her hands. "This is wonderful news! I always thought it was ridiculous of you to avoid romance so determinedly. Whatever made you change your mind—or did she catch you by surprise?"

"The latter," he said. "She indeed caught me very much by surprise. I thought she was becoming my new best friend, and then, recently, she became quite a bit more."

Laurent laughed again. "I like this girl already. So this is a recent development, is it?"

Remus nodded. "Less than two weeks."

"And already you had to leave her behind? Poor dear," said Sophie.

"It's only for a few days," said Remus.

"But you miss her, don't you?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied._Desperately._

"So tell us more about this girl of yours," prodded Laurent.

Remus couldn't help but smile when he thought of her. "She's…she's not like anyone I've ever known before. She's funny, and intelligent. She's very casual, and laid back, but she knows how to get things done. A hard worker. Very accepting, and open. Always ready to welcome new friends into her life. She loves Shakespeare, and rock music, and Quidditch. She's very loyal, and she's unendingly optimistic. And her optimism is catching. When I'm around her I feel a sort of hope for the future that I haven't felt in years."

"She sounds wonderful, Remus," said Sophie.

"She is," said Remus, without hesitation. "But there are moments when I still wonder if I'm doing the right thing, by letting myself be with her."

"The right thing?" exclaimed Laurent. "How could love be the wrong thing?"

"Well, she's a great deal younger than I am—more than thirteen years. And I'm not certain that she fully understands what a commitment to someone like me involves."

"Oh pish posh," said Sophie. "She knows that it involves being with a kind, intelligent, caring, handsome man, and that's all that really matters."

"No, it's not," said Remus firmly. "My condition matters very much. Not to mention that I have nothing to offer her, in comparison to most men closer to her own age."

"That's ridiculous!" said Laurent. "What do you mean you have nothing to offer her? You have yourself!"

"A job would be nice, as well," said Remus with growing irritation.

"Didn't you just tell us that you were working as a translator?" said Sophie.

"Yes, but only on a freelance basis. Who knows how long it will last?"

"It will last," said Laurent. "Of course it will last."

"And why are you so sure she doesn't understand what she is getting into?" asked Sophie. "Young ladies might seem naïve at times—but I assure you, they know more than they let on."

Remus just shook his head.

"What does this girl of yours do for a living?" asked Laurent.

"She's an Auror."

"An Auror!" replied Laurent. "What the hell are you worried about, then? You can't become an Auror without having a good head on your shoulders. And Lycans are part of their training. I'm sure she knows exactly what she is taking on."

"That's what my friends keep telling me," Remus said.

"You have wise friends," said Sophie. "Perhaps the only thing she doesn't know about is how damned self-depreciating you are. But she will learn, soon enough."

"Now, Sophie…" said Laurent.

"I only speak the truth, and you know it, Remus," said Sophie confidently.

"You're right. I know you're right. I just can't help myself."

"You can try a little harder," said Sophie.

Remus just nodded.

"Enough of this depressing talk," said Laurent. "Let's get to the good stuff. What is this young woman's name?"

"Nymphadora."

"Nymphadora. That's very Shakespearian," Laurent said.

"That's what I told her," replied Remus with a laugh.

"And what does this Nymphadora of yours look like? Is she pretty?"

"Unbelievably pretty. And she doesn't even realize it. She has the idea that she's making a noble sacrifice by wearing her natural face instead of some sort of concocted ideal, but she doesn't know that her true face is one of the most beautiful I've ever seen."

"Her true face?" asked Sophie.

"Oh—I forgot to mention. She's a Metamorphmagus."

Laurent sat up straight, and slapped his knee, letting out a deep chortle. "A Metamorphmagus! You've hit the jackpot, my boy! You better not let this one get away!"

"Laurent! Don't get crude!" said Sophie.

"I wasn't being crude. Did I say anything crude?"

"No, but you were going to."

Remus sat back and watched them fall into a familiar pattern of light-hearted bickering. They had been married for nearly thirty years, and even the rhythm of their argument felt like just another expression of their deep love for one another. Remus found himself wondering if he could ever have something similar with Nymphadora. Would they be able to love each other for thirty years? Eventually the conversation turned to other things, but those were the thoughts that lingered with him as he went to sleep that night.

* * *

Tonks sat down in a corner booth in the smoke-filled Muggle pub. Arthur Weasley had agreed to fill in for her outside of the Department of Mysteries once she explained why she needed the night off, and Bill had come along with her. He was also an old friend of Eddy's, and she hoped his presence would make Eddy feel as comfortable as possible.

A few minutes after eleven, Eddy walked into the pub. Tonks stood up to catch his eye, and waved him over to their table. She was very glad to see the look of relief on his face when he caught sight of Bill.

After they'd said their hellos and ordered a round, Eddy looked back and forth between Bill and Tonks, tapping his hand nervously on the table. "So," he said. "Want to tell me what you two have been up to? And why you think I might be interested in it?"

Bill spoke first. "Tonks tells me that you're inclined to believe Dumbledore's version of things rather than Fudge's."

Eddy nodded. "I do lean that way, yes."

"Dumbledore has been looking for people who lean that way," said Bill. "If we want to be ready for the bad things that are on the horizon, then there are things that need to be done _now_, rather than later. Dumbledore has been gathering a group of like-minded people to see to it that as many of those things get done as possible."

Eddy nodded pensively. "And I take it that the two of you are part of this like-minded group?"

"Yes, we are," said Tonks.

"So, are you vigilantes or something?"

"No!" she said indignantly, just as Bill replied, "Sort of."

"Bill!" said Tonks, indignantly. "We are not vigilantes," she said firmly.

Eddy quirked an eyebrow at Bill. Bill shrugged. "We don't go around torturing people for information, or burning down their houses for vengeance, or anything like that. But some of the things that we do come pretty close to vigilantism."

"Is it anything you would get arrested for?" asked Eddy.

"No. Not at all," replied Tonks. She felt a twinge of guilty conscience thinking about poor Sturgis, but now was certainly not the time to bring him up.

"But it is this sort of thing you could lose your job over, if you aren't careful, Tonks," said Bill.

Tonks sighed. "Okay. He's right about that. But only for me. As an employee of the Ministry, I am in special jeopardy if caught going against their policies. But that would not apply to you."

"So my job and my freedom would not be in jeopardy," said Eddy. "But my reputation might be?"

Bill nodded. "That's true," he said. "But that was a risk that I thought was worth taking. And so have lots of others."

"So what do you do?" Eddy asked.

"Surveillance mostly," said Tonks. "We keep track of what suspected Death Eaters are up to, and also keep an eye on any other suspicious persons. We're hoping to find evidence of where You-Know-Who is holed up, so we can tip off the Ministry authorities, and get him before he starts anything really bad."

"We've also been quietly standing guard over people and places that we think are likely targets for his organization," said Bill. "Like, this past summer we kept a round-the-clock guard on the Muggle residence where Harry Potter lives."

"And of course," said Tonks, "one of the most important things that we do is just get the word out. People need to know what's going on, so that they can prepare themselves. Unfortunately," she added, "lots of us are in the position where our jobs could be threatened if we speak up too openly. That's why it would mean a lot for us to have someone like you on our side. You and your family are well-respected in the community, and you aren't going to get sacked if you start voicing unpopular opinions."

Eddy was quiet for a moment, and pensive. "So," he said, "if I were to join this... group of like-minded people, you lot would probably expect me to start going around preaching that You-Know-Who is back?"

Tonks and Bill exchanged a glance. Eddy's tone had not been very encouraging. Tonks nodded. "Yes. But it's not like you would have to be shouting it from the rooftops or anything. You would just have to start talking about it to family, and friends, and people you work with. Subtly, quietly, and privately."

Eddy took a sip of his beer, and looked out across the smoky bar. "Like we're doing here tonight, eh?"

"Exactly," said Bill.

Eddy took another sip of his beer, and looked down at the table. After a moment, he looked back up at them. "If I do join up, it would put me in a pretty precarious position once You-Know-Who starts making himself known, wouldn't it?"

"It would," said Tonks, nodding. "That's a risk that we've all decided to take on. And that's something you have to think about before committing. You have to decide if it's worth the risk." Tonks hadn't had to think twice, herself. She knew this cause was worth it any risk. Nothing could have made her change her mind. But she understood from Sirius that her own parents had had a chance to join up during the first war, and had chosen not to. They had said it was because of her—they wanted to protect her. Tonks respected the decision, but it's not one she would have made.

Eddy looked at the table again. "If it was just me," he said, "I would join up right here and now. But now I've got Felicia to think about—we're getting married in four months. I love her more than anything, but I know that she's not strong. Not like you, Tonks. She needs looking after. Protecting. I don't want to be the one to put her in harm's way."

Tonks felt her hopes fall. Her conversation with Eddy on Monday had seemed so promising. She had felt so sure that finally someone else from her generation would join up.

"That's not to say he that I'm turning you down," said Eddy. "I just have to give it some more thought, first. All right?"

"Its fine, Eddy," said Bill. "It's a tough choice. I know. So you just take your time. We aren't going anywhere. And if you have any more questions while you're thinking about it, don't hesitate to owl me, or Tonks. We're not going to try to push this on you. But if you decide you're ready to take this risk, we'll be here."

Eddy nodded again. "Thanks. I do want to help. I do. I just need to let it sink in for a few days before I make up my mind. I need to talk to Felicia. How much can I tell her?"

"We'll leave that up to your discretion, Eddy," said Tonks. "You can decide. We trust you, and you trust her. That's enough for me. The only thing we ask is that you leave our names out of it, Okay?"

"No problem." Eddy took a deep gulp of his beer. "Damn. I certainly didn't start the week expecting something like this to fall into my lap." He shook his head. "It teaches a man not to take things for granted."

"You've got that bloody right," agreed Bill, taking a drink himself. "So, four months, eh? How's it feel?"

Eddy grinned. "Good. But a little surreal. It's almost like I'm turning into my father."

"Now that's a scary thought," said Bill, with a teasing smile.

"No shit. But she's worth it. I never thought I'd feel this way about someone. And how are things coming along with that little French flower of yours, mate? You two seemed pretty serious last time I saw you."

Bill nodded with a smug smile. "It's getting that way. I'm visiting her family in France the day after Christmas."

"Oooh. That is serious."

Tonks was amazed at how quickly and easily Bill had diverted the serious conversation into something so much more comfortable. She was beginning to wonder if a career in politics was in his future. The three of them chatted comfortably about their lives and relationships for nearly another hour before Eddy finally excused himself.

They stood to shake his hand before he left. "And don't forget," said Bill. "Be in touch after you've had time to think things over."

"I will," said Eddy. "G'night."

Tonks and Bill sat back down. "Do you think there's any chance he'll join?" asked Tonks. She was doubtful, herself.

"There's a chance. A pretty good one. But it might not be right away. He needs to get used to the idea first. Maybe I'll see if he and Felicia want to go on a double-date with Fleur and me. I have a feeling that she's probably not as needy and delicate as he makes her out to be, but I won't be able to convince him of that until I've gotten to know her better."

"That's a good idea. You should definitely try it," replied Tonks.

"I will." Bill took another drink. "I don't know about you, but I'm tired of being one of the only ones at Order meetings without some grey in my hair. We sorely need some young blood to join up, or it won't be the Death Eaters that kill us, it'll be old age."

Tonks snorted with laughter. "I know! Every time I take to poor Elphias I'm terrified that he's about to keel over."

Bill shook his head. "I know most of them are younger than my parents, but you can't deny that the Order is severely lacking people who left Hogwarts after the end of the first war. It's just us and Hestia. But there are plenty of witches and wizards closer to our age who could add a lot to the Order. We just need to find a way to convince them that it's worth it."

Tonks sighed. "I know it. I tried talking to another friend of mine about it a few days ago. He's a Muggle-born, and the whole concept of war in the Wizarding World is so foreign to him that he hadn't even given it a second thought. But I think I got through to him. Maybe he'll start looking it more closely." She shook her head. "And the other problem is that a lot of people our age are married, with little kids. In that situation, I can't blame them for not wanting to get involved. I haven't even bothered to ask my best girlfriend and her husband. He's half-blood, which makes him more of a target to begin with, and they've got a year and a half old son. I wouldn't want to drag them into something that will only get them hurt. When I think of little Harry, and the Longbottom boy," she shook her head. "I would never do that to little Geoffrey. I think that's why it's so hard to get people our age involved."

Bill nodded somberly, but then flashed her a smile. "I guess we just have to start focusing our attention on determined bachelors and bachelorettes, then, shan't we?"

"It seems so." She smiled, but her thoughts had instantly turned to Remus. She had been so sure that she was one of those determined bachelorettes, until she met him. It hadn't taken long for that to change. She finished her drink, and wondered if he was somewhere over the Channel, thinking of her just as she was thinking of him. _Merlin, I hope so._

Not much later they left the pub and started walking to the nearest safe Apparition point. Suddenly, a glowing white form soared toward them. It was a ghost-like, fluttering robin—Molly's Patronus. Bill drew out his wand, and touched it to the Patronus, uttering the word, "Speak."

"Bill," spoke Molly's voice from the bird, "your father's been attacked. We're at St. Mungos. You have to come at once." Even in the ghostly echo, the desperation was evident in Molly's voice.

Bill's face blanched. "Oh God."

"Let's go," said Tonks, firmly guiding him to the Apparition point. "I'll come with you." She was trying her best sound under control, and decisive, but all she could think about was that Arthur had been filling in for her. Whatever attack he had encountered, it should have been her facing it—not him.

* * *

Sirius sat alone, a bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand. He stared blankly at the tapestry clinging doggedly to the wall in front of him. What a great legacy his family had left him. A rickety old house full of dark objects, and a half-mad house elf.

He took a swig of his bottle. And now he was alone. Almost as alone as he had been in Azkaban. Not one single soul had bothered to stop by and talk to him that day. Not even Tonks. He had been forgotten.

And days like this were bound to be increasingly common now that Remus was snogging his cousin. They were sure to spend more time alone at her place, instead of here with him. Who would willingly decide to spend time in this prison, anyway? He couldn't blame them for having their trysts elsewhere.

He took another swig. He thought it would make him happy to see his two friends finally get together, but instead it had only made him more depressed. It forcefully reminded him of what he didn't have. Of what he couldn't have. Of what he wanted.

He stood up, and strolled over to the tapestry. He leaned down to study the names so carefully embroidered into the fabric. He reached out, and ran his finger over the charred mark where his name should have been, and then slowly ran his finger across to another charred spot—the spot where the name "Andromeda" had once been written.

"Dromeda," he said to himself. "That's what I need. I need Dromeda. She would come and talk to me—I know she would. I just have to convince Tonks and Dumbledore that I need to see her, and they'll let her come. And then I won't be alone anymore."

He had no idea how long he had been standing when he heard a familiar haughty voice calling, "Sirius! Sirius, you reprobate, where are you?"

He ambled into the next room, where a simple landscape painting hung. Kreacher hissed at him from the corner, but he ignored him. A figure had entered the quiet scene hanging on the wall, and he was now the center of Sirius's attention. "Hello, Phineas," said Sirius. "What do you want this time?"

"Nothing but some peace and quiet," huffed the image of his ancestor. "But it seems I'm not to get it. Dumbledore has a message for you."

"Well, what is it?"

"Arthur Weasley has been seriously injured, and is in St. Mungo's. His wife, children, and Harry Potter will be coming here shortly to stay with you. There. I've done it. Now I'm off to my other portrait, where I can get some peace." Phineas slipped quickly out of the scene.

Sirius's eyes were wide. Coming here? Now? Arthur injured? He dashed down to the kitchen, and rummaged in the pantry. Quickly, he found the Sober-Quick powder he'd been looking for. He dumped a dose into some water, and quickly gulped the bitter result. Instantly the fog lifted from his mind. And just in time.

Harry and the Weasley children appeared behind him, clutching a Portkey.

"Back again," muttered Kreacher, who must have followed him downstairs. "The blood traitor brats. Is it true that their father's dying…?"

All of Sirius's rage and frustration burst out at the elf. "OUT!" he roared, kicking the miserable creature in the rear. Kreacher yowled, and scuttled out of the kitchen.

Sirius turned to the children, his heart pounding. He had no idea what to say.

"What's going on?" he asked, as he reached out to help Ginny Weasley up from where she had fallen. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured—"

"Ask Harry," said one of the twins.

"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," said the other.

_Harry? Why would Harry know more of what's going on than the others?_

"It was…" started Harry, speaking more hesitantly than Sirius had ever heard him before. "I had a…a kind of…vision…"

Sirius felt chilled to the bone as Harry recounted his tale. _Why in the bloody hell is Harry having visions about what Voldemort's minions are up to? Is something wrong with him?_ Once again, Sirius felt that he had let his godson down. He hadn't been there to help him cope with whatever was happening to him. He hadn't been there to help him grow up strong enough to fight off whatever Voldemort was doing to him.

When Harry's tale was done, all of the Weasley children started insisting that they go to St. Mungo's at once. It was exactly what Sirius would have wanted, in their place, but he knew he had to stop them.

One of the twins was arguing that it didn't matter if they showed up before any of them could have reasonably been informed of the attack.

Sirius cut in. "It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away! Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?"

He hated singling out Harry in that way and he could see the mortification on his godson's face. But it was the only argument that he could think of.

The twins continued to argue, and he could feel his temper rising. He found himself almost shouting at them. "This is how it is! This is why you're not in the Order! You don't understand! There are things worth dying for!"

"Easy for you to say, stuck here!" exclaimed Fred. "I don't see you risking your neck!"

Sirius froze. He clenched his fists and his jaw, forcefully restraining his impulse to sock the cheeky little bastard in the jaw. Their father was hurt—maybe dying. He had to take that into account. He took in a deep breath, and did his best to speak in a calm voice. "I know it's hard, but we've all got to act as though we don't know anything yet. We've got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother, all right?"

Finally, the boys quieted down. Sirius did what he could to relax them, passing around butterbeers.

He had no idea what to say, or do. He wasn't the one who was good at this. He didn't know how to comfort frightened kids. He wished wholeheartedly that Remus were the one to be dealing with this instead of him. _He_ would know what to do. He always did.

All that was left now was to wait.

Sirius couldn't help but wish he was still alone.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for reading! If you leave a review, Remus will probably daydream of you while he is away on business. ;) And just FYI--I will mostly stick with canon in this story, but I reserve the right to go slightly AU as called for. And I'm going to warn you right now--unless my schedule clears up suddenly it will probably be another month before the next update. Sorry!


	6. Chapter 6: The Other Patient

**Author's Notes:** As ever, thanks go to my beta reader shimotsuki for her help. I am now officially calling this story "Alternate Reality." It doesn't deviate significantly enough from canon to be an "Alternate Universe," but it does have a few noticeable differences, primarily when it comes to the relationship between the Tonks and Malfoy families. Sorry for the long wait between updates—but the next chapter is almost ready and will be up within a week. :)

**Previously, in "Transformations":** During interrogation an Austrian Death Eater reveals a funnel of money to the Death Eaters via some English "charities," and drops cryptic clues about a werewolf organization (led by men called "Tibbs" and "The Chief") supporting Voldemort. Remus enjoys a reunion with some old friends in Switzerland. Tonks and Bill make strides toward recruiting their friend Eddy into the Order, and receive word of the perilous snake attack on Arthur. A depressed Sirius decides that he wants to be reunited with his cousin, Andromeda, and has to deal with the arrival of the agitated Weasley kids and Harry.

Chapter 6: The Other Patient

Remus was just finishing a leisurely breakfast with Sophie and Laurent when an owl fluttered to their window. When Sophie let it in, it flew straight to Remus.

As he read the letter attached to its leg, his heart skipped a beat.

"What is it, Remus?" asked Laurent. "Is something wrong?"

Remus nodded sharply. "One of my friends has been attacked, and is in hospital. His wife needs help looking after the children. I have to leave at once." What alarmed Remus the most was not the news of Arthur's attack, but the fact that Harry had witnessed the attack in some sort of vision. The Weasleys and Harry were already moving back into Grimmauld Place to be closer to Arthur, and Dumbledore had asked him to return as soon as possible to assist Sirius in looking after them.

"Of course! Of course," said Sophie. "You must go to your friends. We won't hold you back."

Remus quickly packed his bag. When he came back into the sitting room, Sophie held out a festively wrapped package to him. "Your Christmas present," she said. "I got it early so that you could take it back with you."

"Thank you," he said, taking the soft and lumpy package, and adding it to his bag. "Thank you both." He embraced them each in turn, and left the peaceful house behind, wondering when he would see it again.

* * *

Tonks had tried to be as light and cheery as she could muster, for the sake of the children, but the entire trip to St. Mungo's she felt a horrible coldness in the pit of her stomach. The reason Arthur was here in the first place was because she was too eager to be making up for months of wasted time when she should have been out recruiting for the Order. She hadn't even been willing to wait for a night that she wasn't on guard duty.

She should have been the one to face down that bloody snake—not Arthur. She was trained to deal with those sorts of situations. She wouldn't have been caught off her guard the way he was. She could have fought it off—maybe even captured it. But she had been in too damned much of a hurry to congratulate herself for finally bringing in a recruit.

Molly knew that she and Arthur had traded shifts, but had been kind enough not to say anything. Tonks almost wished that she would.

After making their way through the St. Mungo's reception area, they finally stood outside the door to Arthur's ward. It was labeled "DANGEROUS Dai Llewellyn Ward: Serious Bites." _Serious Bites. Thanks to me, Arthur is suffering from a serious bite._

"We'll wait outside, Molly," she said. "Arthur won't want too many visitors at once….It ought to be just the family first."

Molly nodded in agreement, and Moody huffed in approval, taking up a guard post by the door.

The Weasley kids and Harry followed Molly into the ward, and Tonks started pacing the hall. She wished Remus were there. She needed someone to talk to. She needed to get this guilt off of her chest, and Moody was the wrong person to turn to—he would only tell her that Aurors aren't supposed to dwell on their feelings. They're supposed to do their job, and move on.

If only it were that easy.

As a nurse walked by, Tonks stopped her and asked, "Do you know if Healer Martin Eggers is working today?"

The nurse thought for a moment, and then replied, "I think he worked a shift last night. I'm pretty certain he has the day off."

"Thanks," said Tonks, as the nurse headed on her way. Even Marty would have been someone to talk to. This wasn't the sort of thing Mad-Eye would understand—he didn't believe in indulging in pointless guilt. But it didn't seem pointless to her.

After a few minutes, Molly and the children came out. They all seemed greatly relieved._Thank Merlin. Arthur must be doing well._

She and Moody went back in with Molly. Arthur was looking far better than she had expected, under the circumstances.

Arthur happily reassured them that he was doing very well, but Tonks wasn't so sure. The dressings on his wound were ones that she recognized from experience with other injured Aurors—they were used for wounds that refused to cease bleeding.

She leaned forward, and in a low voice said, "I've talked to a friend from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. After you were found, they launched a full-scale search of the Ministry for the snake. They searched the whole area but they couldn't find the snake anywhere. It just seems to have vanished. And You-Know-Who can't have expected a snake to get into the Department of Mysteries for him, can he?"

"I reckon he sent it as a lookout," said Moody, "'cause he's not had any luck so far, has he?" Moody continued to talk, but Tonks's mind drifted away from it as she stared down at Arthur's dressing.

She closed her eyes._Stop doing this to yourself, Tonks. It won't do anyone any good._ She looked away, trying to clear her head, and froze when she caught sight of a patient in a bed across the room.

He lay still, looking pale and sickly, staring up blankly at the ceiling. He looked worn, and depressed, but she still clearly recognized the man who had been the star Chaser of the Slytherin Quidditch team while they were in school together.

"Arthur," she said, interrupting the conversation. "Do you know what that man is in for?"

Arthur shook his head sadly. "Such a pity, the poor chap. He was bitten by a werewolf. So young, too. Such a pity." Arthur glanced up at her suddenly. "Do you know him?"

"We were at Hogwarts together. He was only a year ahead of me," she said softly, still staring at the man. She turned back to Molly and Arthur. "Would the two of you mind if I go have a chat with him?"

"Not at all, not at all," said Arthur. "He could use some cheering up."

She nodded. "I'll just be a few minutes," she said to Moody. She walked slowly over to the young man's bed, having no idea what she was going to say.

"Ethan? Ethan Bulstrode?" she said when she reached his side.

He slowly pulled his eyes away from his study of the ceiling tiles, and gradually focused them on her face. "Tonks?" he said in bewilderment.

"You remember me, then," she said, smiling.

"I remember the hair," he said. "And the way you could swing your bat like a madwoman out on the Quidditch pitch."

"You usually managed to dodge the Bludgers, though, if I recall," she said.

"Only just." He sat up, and scooted to lean back against the wall.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I came to see Arthur Weasley, across the way," she said.

"Oh, yeah. I remember you were friends with the Weasley boys. Did you marry one of them, then?" he asked. His face was regaining some color as they talked.

She burst out laughing. "Merlin, no! I'm just still friends of the family—that's all."

A little smile cracked his face. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. But really—I haven't had time to get married. I'm an Auror now."

His eyes widened. "Really? Good for you. I never had the will to work hard enough for the Auror program. They really know how to grind you down."

"That they do. But somehow I survived it."

They paused, and in the silence he eyed her uncomfortably. Finally, she spoke again. "Arthur told me why you're here," she said quietly.

"Oh." His voice, almost animated a moment earlier, was now flat, and dead. His face resumed its blank expression, and he stared off at the wall in front of him.

"Ethan, I know it must seem like the end of the world right now," she said, "but it really isn't. I've met quite a few lycans, and they really can lead very good lives. It's not a condition that's easy to live with, but I know that you can do it."

"Lycans," he let out a hollow laugh. "That's a pretty word to hide the fact that you're talking about a monster."

"They're not monsters. And neither are you," she said firmly.

"What about the one who did this to me? Would you say he's not a monster?"

Tonks wasn't sure how to respond to that one. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "I'm very sorry. But for every bad werewolf out there, there are at least a dozen good people who keep the condition under control. I know that for a fact."

Ethan just shook his head. "You might be right. But I won't be one of them."

"Now you're being absurd," she said, getting irritated.

"No," he looked her hard in the eye. "I'm not. These—these _good_ Lycans that you're talking about—I'd bet they all have money, and homes, and families, and friends, don't they?"

Tonks couldn't deny the truth. She nodded shortly. "Yes. They do. But don't you…?"

"Not anymore," he spat out bitterly. "As soon as my family learned that I'd been bitten, they threw me out on the streets. None of them have come to see me. Not even my friends. Not even my…" he seemed to choke on his words, "not even my fiancée."

Tonks's mouth hung open. How could the people who were supposed to love him the most just abandon him like this? He was still the same man he ever was—he just had a disease! They should be helping him, not turning against him.

"And three days ago," Ethan continued, "I got word that my father has formally dis-inherited me. I have nothing. No one."

Tonks's jaw set in anger. This was just the sort of prejudice and ignorance that allowed people like Umbridge to gain power. And she wouldn't stand for it.

"Well, you have someone now," she said firmly.

"What?" he blinked at her in incomprehension.

"Just what I said. You have me." Understanding was beginning to dawn on his face. "I'm not going to let you waste away in misery like this," she said. "You are still a human being, and you are still worth caring about. And I'm going to prove it to you."

"But…but….You hardly even know me!" he stammered.

"Doesn't matter," she said firmly. "I'm sick and tired of living in a world where people sit back and let injustice happen without lifting a finger. I'll be damned if I'm going to let you slip away unnoticed and uncared for."

Ethan sat stock still, staring at her. "But why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do. That's why."

He looked stunned beyond belief. Tonks thought she could see his eyes growing suddenly moist.

"I don't believe it," he whispered.

"Well, start believing," she said. "Just because some people who were supposed to care about you ended up treating you like crap, it doesn't mean that everyone will. Now," she leaned toward him. "I can't stay any longer today. I'm afraid I've got to get to work soon. But I promise I'll come back tomorrow, and we'll have a nice long talk, okay?"

Ethan nodded.

She stood up straight. "Brilliant! I'll see you around lunchtime, then."

"Okay," he said.

"See you tomorrow," she said, with a wave.

"See you tomorrow," he said, still sounding disbelieving.

She followed Molly and Moody out the door, waving good bye to Arthur, and waving again to Ethan.

A broad smile had spread across her face. All her thoughts of self-condemnation and guilt were gone. She might have made a mistake switching shifts with Arthur, but she wasn't going to make a mistake this time. Ethan needed her help, and she was going to give it to him.

* * *

When Remus arrived at Grimmauld Place late in the evening, nearly everyone had already gone to bed. Only Sirius was up, sharing a drink with Kingsley. When Sirius saw him, he let out a sigh of relief. "Are you a sight for sore eyes," he said.

Remus smiled. "I had no idea he you cared so much, Sirius."

"I don't, normally," he replied. "But I have discovered that I'm shit at babysitting. Especially when the kids need emotional support. I've been total pathetic crap, and I couldn't wait for you to get back and give me a hand."

"You don't seem to be having too much trouble now," said Remus, pointedly eyeing the bottle of beer in Sirius's hands.

"That's because they're all finally asleep."

"Speaking of sleep," interjected Kingsley, "that is probably what you ought to be doing too. Weren't you up all night as well?"

Sirius shrugged. "I've never needed much sleep."

Remus sank down in a chair. "I take it Arthur is doing well?"

"Fairly well," said Kingsley. "His spirits are high, and the healers are optimistic." Kingsley proceeded to fill him in on everything that had happened, including Harry's strange vision. Sirius was sullenly quiet the entire time, finishing his bottle and moving on to another.

"Dumbledore is working on it," said Kingsley. "Hopefully, he'll fill us in at the next meeting."

"It's bloody unnerving, if you ask me," said Sirius finishing off his beer. "I'm damn worried about Harry. And if Dumbledore won't give me any answers, I'm going to be very upset." He slammed his bottle down the table.

"It's not our place to question Dumbledore's methods," said Remus.

"Hah. It's just like you to say that, isn't it?" He leaned forward, pointing and waving his hand erratically. Remus was beginning to think that Sirius was drunker than he had at first appeared. "I think it's exactly my place to question his methods. His methods kept me locked up in bleeding Azkaban for twelve bloody years! And all I got for my suffering was a single pathetic little apology. Like one bloody apology is going to make up for being abandoned to the dementors!" Sirius was rising to his feet, his face mottled with rage.

"Just calm down, Sirius," said Kingsley. "You'll wake the children."

"Let them wake up! He's got them all mesmerized. It's time to open their eyes to the fact that he is just as human as the rest of us. That he makes mistakes just like the rest of us. And most importantly, that he is not always right!" Sirius pounded his palm on the table at the end of each sentence, emphasizing his point.

"All right, Sirius," said Remus as he stood and walked around the table. He laid a hand on Sirius's shoulder. "We'll get the answers. We will make sure that he tells us everything that he knows. We'll talk to him together, I promise."

"Yes, yes," said Sirius, more quietly. "We'll talk to him together. He listens to you. Not to me. Never to me. But he listens to you. He'll answer you."

"Next time we see him, we'll talk to him."

"Next time. Next time."

"But right now, you need to go get some sleep. You look knackered," concluded Remus. Kingsley looked rather alarmed, but Remus had dealt with Sirius's drunken outbursts enough over the past few months to know how to handle them.

Sirius stared off into space, and wobbled slightly on his legs. "You know—I think you're right," he said.

"Let's get you to bed, shall we?"

Sirius nodded in reply. Remus pulled one of Sirius's arms over his shoulders, and helped him to the door. "I'll be back down in a minute, Kingsley," he said.

Remus helped Sirius up several flights of stairs, and into his room. Sirius flopped onto his bed, and Remus pulled off his shoes. "Now you sleep this off, mate," he said. "You'll feel better in the morning."

Sirius looked blearily up at him. "Harry will still be here tomorrow, won't he?"

Remus nodded. "Harry will still be here."

"He'll be here for Christmas?"

"Yes, he'll be here for Christmas."

"Good. He belongs here. With me. G'night, Moony."

"Good night, Sirius."

Remus made his way back down to the kitchen, where Kingsley was still sitting. "Sorry about that," he said to Remus. "When he asked me if I wanted to have a drink, I had no idea he'd get so pissed."

"Don't worry about it. He used to do this every night, when we first moved in here. This is only the second time this month, so he really is doing much better." Remus slid into a seat.

"Poor sod. It's amazing he's doing as well as he is, considering. I don't know if I could have kept my sanity after twelve years in the hands of the dementors."

They sat quietly for a few moments. "So," said Remus, finally, "how is Molly holding up?"

Kingsley shrugged. "She's keeping up a good face, but I think she's pretty shaken up."

Remus nodded. Molly had been struggling to hold herself together since the reformation of the Order. This incident would only make things harder for her. He wished there was something he could do to make things easier, but in a war like this, there was no real comfort to be had.

"Tonks is a little rattled, too," added Kingsley.

Remus's eyes widened. "Tonks? Why?"

"She was supposed to be standing guard that night. She and Arthur traded shifts. I think she feels guilty over it."

"But there's no way anyone could have known," said Remus.

Kingsley shook his head. "You and I know that. But Tonks—she has the unfortunate tendency to take things too personally. Even at work. She lets herself get too emotionally involved. I think it's her Hufflepuff nature asserting itself."

"That's not always a bad thing," said Remus defensively.

"Not always. But it makes the job even harder than it already is. Sometimes you have to be cold and detached to keep yourself sane in this business."

Remus nodded quietly. "Do you know…if she plans on stopping by tonight?"

"No. She's working the late shift this week. She won't be done at work until after midnight."

"Oh," Remus tried not to let his disappointment show. He spent his whole journey home thinking about her, and had wanted to see her as soon as he got back.

Kingsley smiled at him. "So. You and Tonks, eh?"

Remus nodded, smiling sheepishly back.

"I suspected that might happen," said Kingsley.

"It seems that most people suspected it," replied Remus. "Apparently we weren't nearly as subtle as we thought we were."

"I think you'll be good for each other. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you."

"But you do realize that if you break up, I'm going to have to take her side." Kingsley chuckled at him.

"Sirius told me the same thing. I'm starting to wonder if anyone at all would take my side," Remus said.

"Then you'd best not break up with her."

"It seems so."

A short time later Kingsley left for the night, and Remus went to his own room. A relationship was hard enough under ordinary circumstances, but with all of his friends scrutinizing it so closely, it was bound to be even more complicated.

In the morning, Remus let Molly leave early for St. Mungo's, and prepared breakfast for the children himself. He was worried that Sirius's dark mood would carry over but much to his relief, it did not. In fact, Sirius was downright chipper, conjuring piles of Christmas decorations, and leading the children all around the house decking the halls. In fact, it was Harry that was the problem. He was quiet throughout breakfast, and immediately after finishing, he returned to his room and remained holed up while the rest of them enjoyed themselves.

"Do you think one of us should go talk to him?" Remus asked Sirius quietly.

Sirius shook his head. "He just needs some time to think things through. He'll pull out of it." And with that, he was off, singing Christmas carols at the top of his lungs.

At just after ten, Remus was in the dining room trimming it with popcorn chains with Sirius, Ginny, and Ron when they heard the portrait of Mrs. Black start to scream. "Half-blood mutant freak! Wanton hussy, spreading your filth through my house!"

His smile blossomed when he realized that only one person could elicit those particular curses from Walburga: Nymphadora.

Trying not to look too conspicuous, Remus put down his popcorn chain, and said, "I think I'll go help her with that." As he made for the door, none of the youngsters batted an eye, but Sirius shot him a suggestive look complete with wagging eyebrows.

When Remus reached her, Nymphadora was still trying to pull the curtains closed over the shrieking image of Mrs. Black. He stepped in, and firmly grabbed one of the enchanted curtains. Together, he and Nymphadora finished covering the portrait, cutting off her string of curses.

They looked at each other in dazed silence for a moment. She had a silly grin on her face, which he felt was probably echoed on his. "Wotcher," she said.

"Hello," he said.

With out further preamble, she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and firmly pressing her lips against his in an ardent kiss. It was very easy to forget his misgivings about their relationship when she did these things. The force of her sudden thrust against him sent him stumbling back into the wall, and she continued to press him back with her eager embrace—an embrace which he was perfectly happy to return in kind.

When they finally pulled apart, he was nearly out of breath. "I'm happy to see you too, Nymphadora," he said with a smile.

She chuckled. "Good. I'd hate to think you weren't missing me as much as I was missing you."

"I assure you, I was," he said, taking one of her hands in his, and raising it to his mouth where he placed a kiss against her knuckles. "But I do feel that I owe you a warning. I don't feel entirely comfortable being open about our new relationship in front of the children. I was their teacher after all, so seeing me with you would almost inevitably stir up all sorts of gossip. I don't fancy having a pack of bored teenagers talking about my love life. Particularly Fred and George. With this information in hand, who knows what they might do?"

Nymphadora nodded. "I am afraid I'll have to agree with you on this one," she said. "That's why I'm snogging you here in the hall, before any of them come out and see us." With that, she pulled him in for another lingering kiss. It was amazing how quickly all of his concerns about their age difference, and his condition, disappeared when she was in his arms. A nagging voice at the back of his mind to hold him he ought to be more mature about this, but right now, he preferred to ignore it.

"Let's go someplace where we can talk in private, without worrying about waking up my Aunty again," she said. She led him into the nearby parlor, where they sat down on the sofa.

"Did you get anything interesting out of the prisoner?" she asked.

"Interesting, yes. Useful? Not as much," he said. "But it seems that things have been much more interesting here at home."

"Truly interesting," she said.

Remus hesitated slightly, and then said, "Kingsley told me that you were feeling badly about switching shifts with Arthur that night."

She looked down, and nodded. "It was his second night shift this week. I knew he would be tired, and I should have just put off my other business until another day. I can't help but feel at least partially responsible." She looked back up at him, and cut him off before he could reply. "I know what you're going to tell me: there was no way of knowing what would happen. And you're right. I know that. I know what I'm feeling isn't logical. But I'm afraid I'm just not always logical, and nothing is going to change that."

"So," he replied, "all of the rational words of wisdom and reassurance that I had planned won't do any good, will they?"

She shook her head. "Nope. But I do appreciate the thought." A little smile danced at the corners of her mouth.

He smiled back. "You're welcome."

They sat in contented silence for a few minutes. It felt so peaceful, so easy. It was moments like this that made him think that this thing between them might actually work.

She was the first to break the silence. "The most interesting thing happened while we were visiting Arthur at hospital," she said. "Another patient in the dangerous bite ward was an old acquaintance of mine from school."

Remus shifted in surprise. "Oh dear. Is he all right?"

"Yes, and no." She started fidgeting nervously with the fringe on the edge of a throw pillow. "You see," she said, "he was bitten by a werewolf."

Remus froze, and he could feel his mouth going dry. "Oh," he said softly.

"I'd like it if you could come back and see him with me," she said. "I think he would appreciate hearing from someone who can honestly tell him what things will be like. He needs to know that he can still live like a human being."

The mention of a newly bitten werewolf so soon after learning of the Moonies from Varick had set him instantly on edge. Could this man be one of their victims? Was this just the beginning of a wave of werewolf attacks ordered by Voldemort himself? Offering comfort was the last thing he could think of right now.

"I'll do what I can," said Remus, after a pause, "but right now I doubt there's much I could say that would help him."

"I think it would help him immensely to meet someone who's made a success of life, in spite of the lycanthropy," said Tonks.

Remus blinked in surprise. "A success?" he said before he could stop himself. "If this is what you call a success, then your standards are exceedingly low."

Nymphadora looked almost offended. "I hate when you say these things about yourself, Remus. Of course you're a success."

"In what way? Because I don't see it." He found it strange that in the past few months she had developed a habit of defending him against his self-criticism—as if she somehow knew him better than he knew himself.

"You've always had a roof over your head, and food on your table, and clothes on your back. And on top of that, you've had lots of fascinating jobs, and made dozens of friends all over England, and Europe for that matter. People like you, and respect you, and trust you. In a society that is not known for liking or trusting Lycans, I would call that very successful indeed." She finished with a sharp nod of her head.

It amazed him how unendingly optimistic she was. She had taken several aspects of his life, like his erratic employment, and somehow made them look like virtues instead of failures. He shook his head a little. "You have the most extraordinary way of looking at things. I couldn't possibly make my life sound as fulfilling as you have—in fact it would likely come out sounding rather bleak. Maybe I shouldn't visit him after all. It might just make him more depressed."

"Oh, bollocks," she said. "You're fantastic at cheering people up, and you know it."

Remus just shrugged. He didn't see how he was any better at cheering people up than her—or lots of other people.

"I'm going to see him again right now—before I have to go in to work," she continued. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Right now?" he asked in surprise. If this man really was a victim of the Moonies, Remus did need to talk to him. But there was other information that he wanted to gather first.

"Yeah. I told him I'd be back today."

"Well…I don't know. I just wasn't expecting…" he trailed off. He wanted to make his report to Dumbledore before plunging into an interview with this young man. He wasn't even sure how much of Varick's information Dumbledore would want him to share with other Order members. He was loath to tell Nymphadora his discoveries until he had time to consult with Dumbledore first. And, to tell the truth, he had no desire to cut his reunion with Nymphadora so short, just for the sake of this stranger. "Are you sure you couldn't put it off until tomorrow?" he asked. "I was hoping we could spend some time together today."

Nymphadora set her jaw. "A promise is a promise, Remus. He really needs to believe in people right now. He comes from a pureblood family, and they disowned him when he was bitten. His family, his friends, and even his fiancée have all turned their backs on him. He really needs someone right now."

Remus nodded. "Poor lad," he muttered.

Nymphadora rolled her eyes. "Don't call him a lad, Remus. He's a year older than me."

Remus's stomach clenched. No matter how often she told him he wasn't too old for her, he couldn't help but think that if his first reaction was to think of her schoolmate as a young lad, then he was definitely too old. _Why in the world does she want someone like me_?

"It's horrid," she went on. "He has no money, no place to live, and no one to turn to. I'm thinking of offering him the spare room at my flat until he gets back on his feet."

_What_? Her flat was the only place the two of them could find any privacy. And now she wanted to share it with this new werewolf whom she hardly even knew? Someone who could be a target for homicidal werewolves serving Voldemort?

"Are you sure that's wise?" he asked. "You don't know this man very well, after all."

"He needs a place to stay, Remus. I'm not going to see him turned out on the streets when I have a perfectly good room to offer. And maybe I can help him find some work, too. I know some people who might be willing to overlook the Umbridge laws…"

A frightening thought was beginning to form in Remus's mind. Was she helping this young man to somehow prove herself to him? Was she doing it to show him how accepting she was of his condition? Was she really so serious about him that she would do all this just as a gesture of support by proxy?

"You can't just adopt this man the way you would a stray cat, Nymphadora. He's got to learn to do these things on his own. He now has a condition that he will have to cope with for the rest of his life, and if you start pampering and coddling him, he will never learn the kind of self-reliance that he needs to get by."

"Why are you sounding so defensive? What's wrong with me trying to do something nice for someone in need?" She frowned at him.

"I'm not being defensive."

"Yes, you are."

Remus shook his head. "This is ridiculous. You are not the self-appointed savior of all werewolves, Nymphadora. Giving this boy a room to sleep in will not change his life, or his future. Nothing you can do will change what we are. You're wasting your time." Remus knew he was going too far even as he said it—but it was too late. It was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

Her face was flushing with anger. "So that's how it is, is it? You think I'm doing this for you, don't you? To show you how I really feel about your condition?" Her words cut too close to the truth. He couldn't think of a response.

She stood, looking down at him. "I am not doing this for you, Remus Lupin. And it's arrogant and nasty for you to even suggest it. I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment. He was on the verge of tossing aside Order protocol and blurting out all that he had learned from Varick, when she spoke. "Fine!" she said. "I'm keeping my promise, and going to see him. Stay here and brood, if that's what you want. I have better things to do."

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out.

Remus sat perfectly still on the edge of the sofa, feeling completely miserable. Their reunion had started off just as nicely as he had hoped, but now it was completely ruined. Why had this turned into an argument? He wished that Dumbledore hadn't insisted on getting the first report of Varick's interrogation. But it wouldn't have been right to defy his orders just to avoid a row with Nymphadora—would it?

He shook his head, and closed his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts. _What do I do now? How long will she hold this against me?_

A moment later Sirius poked his head in. "Is she gone already?" he asked.

Remus nodded.

"You look like shit. What happened?"

"I have absolutely no idea," replied Remus, standing. "If you'll excuse me, I need to be by myself for a while." He strode past the shocked-looking Sirius, and made his way to his room.

He needed to think of a way to apologize to her. He had to. He wasn't ready for things to be over between them yet. Not yet.

**A/N: **Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear from you.


	7. Chapter 7: A Growing Mystery

_**Author's Notes:**_Thanks again to my beta-reader, Shimotsuki.

_**Previously, in "Transformations":**_ While visiting Arthur in St. Mungo's, Tonks recognizes another patient as a former classmate, Ethan Bulstrode, and discovers that he'd been bitten by a werewolf. She visits with him, and learns that his family and friends have completely disowned him. She decides to help him, and promises to come back the next day. Remus returns to Grimmauld Place, where Sirius vents to him about his anger over Dumbledore abandoning him to Azkaban without hearing his side of the story. The next day Tonks tells him about Ethan and asks him to join her efforts to help him. Remus is uncomfortable about the situation, and he and Tonks have their first argument, and part in anger.

**Chapter 7: A Growing Mystery**

Tonks fumed all the way to the hospital. She had no idea how things in her conversation with Remus had gone so badly so quickly. Did he really think that she had taken him on as another charity case? Did he suddenly believe that she was one of those women that seek out men as projects? As something that they can fix? What had she ever done to give him that horrible misimpression?

A few minutes after leaving Grimmauld Place she felt like turning around and going back to shake some sense into Remus. But she was already running late, and she was not going to back out of her promise to visit Ethan. She only hoped that giving Remus this extra time to think about their disagreement would help him come to his senses.

When she saw the way Ethan's eyes lit up as she entered the ward she began to feel better. She said a brief hello to Arthur, and then headed over to Ethan's bed.

"I didn't think you would really come," he said.

"That's just because you don't know me well enough yet," she said. "But you will."

She gave Ethan the magazines, some snack foods, and a container of take-out curry that she had brought for him. He gobbled the curry hungrily, after remarking on the lack of flavor on the St. Mungo's menu. She asked him how long he was going to be in the hospital, and he told her that it was standard practice for St. Mungo's to hold patients with his condition until two days after their first transformation. From then on out, they were expected to fend for themselves.

Tonks wasn't sure if she should be asking this but she decided to anyway. "So how... How did it happen? How did you get your bite?"

His face once more became somber. "I was set up. I was lured into an abandoned warehouse on the night of the full moon, and a werewolf was waiting for me. I'm lucky I escaped with only two bites."

"That's outrageous! Is it being investigated?"

"They say it is," he replied, "but I'm not so sure. I don't have much faith in the Ministry anymore."

"I can't say I blame you," she said. "I haven't much faith in the Ministry anymore either and I work for them." She shook her head. "Do you know who's in charge of your case?"

He shook his head. "No."

She frowned. "This really is outrageous. I told you before, I'm an Auror. I have lots of friends in Magical Law Enforcement. I'll do some asking around, and see who's working your case. Maybe I can make something happen."

"You could try," he said. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't think it will do much good."

"Anything I can do to help," she said. "Do you have any idea who set you up?" She had heard of rumors of murder-by-werewolf before, but since meeting Remus she had given them no credit. She was sorry to find that she had been wrong. _This is why he expects people not to trust him_, she thought.

Ethan nodded. "I have some ideas. I had trouble finding my place in the world after leaving school. But in the past year, I finally found my calling. I've been writing investigative reports for the _Daily Prophet_. I was working on a freelance basis; I hadn't even gotten a full time position yet. Now I never will." He paused, shaking his head. "I buggered it. I buggered everything. In the process of trying to fulfill my dream of being a reporter, I ruined my whole life." He looked down, poking at the curry with a plastic fork.

Tonks waited impatiently for the rest of his story. Finally, he continued. "I was working on a story about werewolf brothels. I didn't even know they existed until last month when one of my old dorm mates from Hogwarts told me about them."

Werewolf brothels? Tonks had never heard of them either. She couldn't believe that the Ministry would allow something like that to exist. She listened attentively as Ethan continued. "I thought that I'd finally found the story that would help me get my big break. I was going to write an exposé. I started looking into it, and I was amazed at what I was finding. Girls—mostly Muggle girls—were being purposefully bitten. They were picked out, selected on purpose by Wizard pimps who wanted them for the purpose. And the pimps were forcing the girls into prostitution in exchange for a safe place to transform each month and a monthly supply of Wolfsbane Potion. That's why they chose Muggles. Without the pimps they would have no access to that sort of protection. And because they were Muggles, it was easy to bribe Ministry officials to look the other way."

As Ethan talked, Tonks's eyes grew wider and wider. She had never heard anything so despicable and outrageous in her life. What kind of sick and twisted people would think of using such a horrible curse to profit off of the bodies of innocent women? And how could any ministry official dare to ignore it? "I can hardly believe what you're saying—it's so horrible!"

Ethan looked at her with earnest, sad eyes. "It's all true. Why else would I be here? Someone involved got wind of my story and wanted to make sure that it was never published. I was a complete idiot to fall for the trap they set for me."

Tonks his head was spinning. Werewolf activity might not normally fall under the jurisdiction of the Aurors, but if this didn't count as Dark Magic, she didn't know what would. "Something has got to be done about this. I'll go to my superiors at once. This can't be tolerated."

"It shouldn't be—but it is," said Ethan, pulling open a bag of crisps, and popping one in his mouth. "I hope you can do something about it, but I wouldn't count on it if I were you. I have a feeling that the bribery on this one extends up to the highest levels of the Ministry."

"I hope you're wrong," said Tonks, feeling sick inside.

"I wish I was," replied Ethan, picking out another crisp. "But I'm not. And it wouldn't surprise me if an organization capable of this was involved in other criminal enterprises as well. It's like there's this whole werewolf underground twining all around us—yet none of the so-called respectable citizens know anything about it. We have no idea how dangerous they are. That's how they got me. An informant told me he wanted to meet me during the night of the full moon, because that's the only time his werewolf bosses wouldn't be looking over his shoulder. And he led me right into a trap," he shook his head. "I was so naïve. I couldn't believe they would actually stoop to that level."

He shook his head, staring at the blank wall across from him. "I was wrong." He popped the crisp into his mouth.

Tonks had always been a strong believer in justice, and she had always counted on the Ministry to provide that justice. But increasingly over the past year her confidence in the Ministry's brand of justice had been eroding. From the gross miscarriage of justice in the Ministry's handling of her cousin Sirius, to the ousting of Dumbledore from the Wizengamot, to the installation of Umbridge at Hogwarts, to this. It was unbearable.

"I'm not going to stand for it," she said fiercely. "Something's got to be done."

"That's what I thought," replied Ethan, popping another crisp into his mouth. "And look where it got me."

Tonks shook her head. "You can't just give up!"

Ethan clenched his hand tightly around the top of his bag, and Tonks heard several crips crunch in his grip. "I don't want to give up. I have no choice. I wrote to my editor and begged him to run the story, but all he wrote back was that the _Prophet_ doesn't accept submissions from known werewolves." Ethan shook his head, and took a few deep breaths. He looked so angry, and so helpless. "But I think the real reason was he was afraid. He saw what they did to me, and he was afraid it would happen to him too. And I think that's why my family—my father—really turned on me. He never approved of my writing. He thought it was beneath the dignity of our family. He thinks that this is my punishment for going against his will. He doesn't want my free-thinking to bring harm to the rest of the family, so he turned against me. And he turned everyone else against me, as well—even Beatrice."

"Your fiancée?"

He nodded. He looked pale, and sick. Tonks couldn't imagine being in his position—assaulted, betrayed, abandoned, and alone. _Damn Remus for not coming. He could really help here._ She tried to push the thoughts of Remus out of her mind—they would only muddle her thinking. Right now she needed to focus on what Ethan was telling her.

"I'm so sorry, Ethan," she said. "You were only trying to do the right thing."

Ethan shook his head. "I don't know anymore. Was it right to pursue this at the expense of my safety? Was it right to defy the values and standards of my family just to satisfy my own ambition?"

"It might have been," said Tonks softly. "My mother defied her family when she was younger than either of us. She came from a family a lot like yours, and she disagreed with some of the things that her parents had taught her. She eventually eloped with a Muggle-born—my father. Her parents never spoke to her again. They passed away without reconciling. I know that sometimes she still regrets losing that relationship—but she has never regretted following her own convictions, and her own heart. That doesn't make the pain of her loss go away, but it does make it worth it."

"I don't know if anything I do now will ever make this worth it." Ethan sounded bleak, and broken.

"It will," she insisted. "Do you still have your notes for the story?"

He nodded. "Yes. They're in a trunk of my personal items that the hospital is keeping for me."

"Okay," she said. "I have to leave for work now, and you need to get those notes organized for me—especially anything that you think might help a serious investigation, like names, addresses, those sorts of things. You can give them to me when I stop by tomorrow. I'm going to take them to my superiors at the Ministry, and we are going to put a stop to what's happening. That's what will make your sacrifice worth it."

Ethan nodded weakly. He didn't look convinced. "I'll have them for you."

It wasn't until she had left St. Mungo's that Tonks allowed herself to think of Remus again. Why had he picked that fight with her? Did he really think so little of her? Or was it himself that he thought so little of? Those uncomfortable thoughts mingled with the unsettling information Ethan had given her as she made her way to work, and there were no easy answers for either situation.

* * *

After several hours of thought, Remus had come to a conclusion: he had behaved like a total wally with Nymphadora that morning. It was up to him to make things right. He knew that her motives had been unselfish—he was the one who was being selfish and demanding. He just needed the chance to apologize.

Sirius's unusual chipper mood hadn't let up and Remus was finally fed up with his incessant caroling. He decided to go run an errand that had been on his mind ever since sitting in on Varick's interrogation. It was time to pay a visit to the Ministry.

Normally, he avoided the Ministry except for his once-yearly required visit to the office of the Werewolf Registry. It was humiliating to be forced to don the red visitor's badge, warning everyone around him that he was a werewolf, and degrading to be forced to surrender his wand at the security desk. However, duty demanded that he follow up on the information he had gotten from Varick and the best place to start was in the Ministry.

He made his way quickly through the corridors, avoiding the gaze of Ministry employees looking at him askance after catching sight of his badge. Soon, he reached his destination: the office of Werewolf Support Services.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside. The shabby office suite consisted of a central room lined with crowded shelves and dominated by two cluttered desks and several chairs. To one side was a small meeting room. For more than a decade, the office of Werewolf Support Services had consisted of only two people: Sarah Browning, a short, stout, gray-haired woman in her sixties, and her assistant.

Sarah was sitting at her desk, and looked up when Remus stepped inside. Her face broke into a broad smile. "Remus! It's been ages and ages!" she said, rising and stepping around her desk to give him a warm embrace. There were very few people Sarah did not greet with an embrace, and Remus was grateful to receive it. She might be a little scatterbrained, but she had one of the best hearts he'd ever encountered.

"Hello, Sarah," he said. "How are things?"

She sighed. "I can't complain—too much," she said. "Things have been harder since—well, you know." He could only assume she was referring to the passage of the Umbridge Laws, which required that every werewolf disclose their condition to prospective employers or face criminal penalties. The laws also required employers to pay the expense of their employees' Wolfsbane Potion, thereby making employers even less likely to take on werewolf employees. Finally, the laws had required employers of werewolves to post public notices in their places of business to inform their customers of their werewolf employee. Remus could only imagine that Sarah's efforts to place werewolves with open-minded employers had been significantly hampered by the new laws. "And how are you doing, Remus—is there anything that I can help you with today?"

"Not for myself, Sarah, I'm happy to say," he replied. "I've actually been doing quite a bit of freelance work for Little Red Books, lately. The pay isn't great, but it's keeping the bills paid."

"Wonderful! How splendid for you!" she said, clasping her hands together. He could sense some relief behind her exclamations, and suspected that she was indeed struggling to help other out-of-work werewolves. He knew his own search for steady employment had been more difficult in the past few years, and could imagine that others in his condition would have things equally hard. In fact, it was only his longstanding friendship with Emmeline that had garnered him his freelance work.

"Have a seat," Sarah said, gesturing at the cluster of mismatched chairs.

He selected a wobbly green wooden chair with the last remnants of a seat-cushion clinging stubbornly to its frame, leaving a more comfortable leather-upholstered seat for Sarah.

"It's so nice to hear that you're doing well," she said lowering herself into her chair. "There's so many wonderful Lycans that are going through hard times right now. I'm being run ragged trying to find positions for them all. I've even resorted to looking for Muggle jobs."

Remus nodded. "I've held a few Muggle jobs in the past. They're not too bad, and many Muggles are far less suspicious about the once a month absences than wizard employers."

"Oh really? I hadn't even thought about that—but I can see how you might be right. Perhaps I'll have to spend more time looking for Muggle jobs."

"Or you could see if there are any Squib business owners out in the Muggle world that are looking for employees. They're more likely to disdain wizarding laws and have sympathy for fellow outcasts."

Sarah sat up straighter, blinking rapidly with a stunned expression on her face. "Why…that thought never even occurred to me! Oh, Remus, I do wish you would stop by more often. You always have the most wonderful ideas. If the Ministry would ever give me the funds for a second assistant, I would hire you on the spot."

Remus smiled. "I appreciate that, but funding your office has never been a Ministry priority." He tactfully decided not to mention the Ministry's policy not to hire part-humans. Sarah seemed to have forgotten it again.

"Don't I know it," she said, shaking her head. She looked at him quizzically. "Have you told me why you stopped by yet—did I just forget?"

"You haven't forgotten. We hadn't got round to it yet."

"Oh good. Like I said, I'm being run ragged." She slumped somewhat in her chair, summoning her cup of tea. "Would you like anything?"

"No, thank you."

"So," she took a sip of her drink. "What's on your mind today, Remus?"

Remus rubbed his chin, wondering just how to approach the subject without giving too much about the Order's activities away. Finally, he said, "I ran into a bloke the other day, in a pub. He was going on and on about some…ahem…ladies of disrepute…whom he had been visiting. He mentioned something about werewolves, and a group he called the_Moonies_. I was wondering if you've ever heard that name tossed about?"

Sarah pursed her lips. "Oooh. I have. And none of it's good."

"Can you tell me?"

She nodded. "A year ago, one of the younger Lycans that I work with told me that some fellows had showed up out of the blue at his flat, claiming to be werewolves from some sort of brotherhood They tried to bully him into collecting information on his wealthy relatives that they could use in a blackmail scheme. He managed to get rid of them, in the end. But it was very disconcerting to us to think of a group of unregistered werewolves forming a gang, and wandering around trying to commit crimes."

Remus frowned. "It is a disconcerting thought. Extremely disconcerting."

Sarah nodded again. "But that's not the worst part. You know how poor Tommy spent all those years searching for his sister?"

"Yes," said Remus, curiously. Sarah's current assistant, Tommy Rocker, had joined Werewolf Support Services about six years ago after his own beloved sister had been bitten, and, a few months later, had vanished without a trace. "Did he finally find her?"

Sarah nodded. "He did, thank Merlin. But she was in a sorry state, poor girl." Sarah sniffed loudly. "It makes me want to cry every time I think about it."

"What happened to her, Sarah?"

She conjured a hankie, and dabbed at her eyes. "She'd been living in a brothel. She said that nearly all the girls there were Lycans—all of them were unregistered, and all of them but her were Muggles. When Tommy found her she was shocked that he would still love her enough to want to bring her back home. But he did. He dotes on her day and night. I think he's trying to work out his guilt over not finding her sooner. But all those other poor girls…with no one else to turn to." A sob escaped from her. "I wish I could help them all, but no one else in the Department seems to care. They seem to think that because the girls are Muggles and the brothel gives them a secure place to transform that it's none of our business." She shook her head violently. "Heartless cowards, the lot of them!"

Remus's jaw was set. How much of this had been happening under the Ministry's nose for years, without anyone noticing or caring? And now, it was no surprise that this hopeless group of outcasts and been swayed to the support of Voldemort—after all, no one else in the wizarding world cared.

"I…" he could hardly think of a reply. "I had hoped that it wasn't true."

"I wake up every day of my life wishing that it was just a bad dream," said Sarah, still sniffling. "But it's not. And the Ministry seems entirely unwilling to do anything about it."

Remus stood, and paced the room. "I wish there was some way I could help," he said.

"There might be," said Sarah.

"How?" he asked, stepping toward her.

"Tommy and I have been talking about going outside of the Ministry. Raising funds to start a charity. A halfway house, where homeless werewolves could live together and work to gain skills that would help them find honest employment. We know it's a huge undertaking, but we're beginning to see that it might be the only way to achieve our goals. And we could use all the help we can get—if you're willing?" The look of hope and pleading in Sarah's eyes was intense.

Remus didn't know how to respond. He had always shied away from associating with other werewolves—he had no desire to form a club or friendship based on wallowing in self-pity, and from his experience that was all that other werewolves ever wanted to do with him.

However, from the sound of things there really was a desperate need for help. And perhaps his experience would actually be able to do someone some good. But with his commitments to the Order he wasn't sure if he would even have time for such an ambitious undertaking.

Besides, the idea of turning his condition into the center of his life—like it was some sort of badge of honor—made him feel sick to his stomach. He longed to be known and respected as a wizard, not as an advocate for victims of a disease. He had never let his condition define who he was, and he worried that getting involved in an organization like the one Sarah suggested would force him to do so.

"I don't know. It's a brilliant idea—it really is," he said politely, "but there's a lot going on in my life right now. I'm not sure how much time I could give you."

"Even a few hours a week would be wonderful, Remus. Any time at all. We're barely getting started. We've only just begun compiling a list of potential donors. Anything you can do would be simply outstanding."

Remus contemplated her offer for a minute. As loath as he was to get involved, he couldn't deny that working with her very well might put him in a position to further investigate the Moonies' connections to Voldemort. That alone would make the experience worthwhile. He would have to discuss it with Dumbledore.

At last, he nodded. "I'd like to help. I'll just have to go home and think on it a bit, to figure out when and how I can work it into my schedule. But as soon as I do, I'll get back to you. I promise."

"Oh Remus!" cried Sarah, rising to her feet and throwing her arms around him again. "This is so fantastic! I'm so glad you stopped by today."

"So am I," said Remus, returning her embrace. "So am I."

On his way out of the Ministry, not much later, Remus hesitated. The lift had stopped on Level Two—where the Auror Headquarters were located. He found himself deeply tempted to get off and see if he could find Nymphadora. He had almost worked up the courage to take a step to exit, when the lift doors slid closed.

He sighed. It was just as well. The last thing she needed right now was to be seen in her office being pestered by a man wearing a red werewolf badge.

* * *

Sirius hadn't been this happy in ages. Not long after the Granger girl's arrival Harry's friends had managed to lift him out of his dark mood. Sirius was glad that Harry had such a good gang of friends to turn to—just like he had once had with the Marauders. And he still did, in a way. After all, Tonks and Bill might not be the friends that James and The-Rat-Who-Must-Not-Be-Mentioned once had been, but they were on their way to becoming so. And though Remus might be bossier and broodier than he used to be, at heart he was still good old Moony.

So now with Harry and his gang over for the holidays, it almost felt like the big family Christmas parties that James and Lily had once dreamed of.

Sirius had spent the Christmas after Harry's birth with them, not long after they went into hiding. They were holed up in a tiny Muggle flat in Manchester, and he was the only friend who could be with them for the holiday. They had stayed up long into the night on Christmas Eve, spinning out plans for what holidays would be like once the war was over. They had pictured all the Marauders getting their families together in the large, rambling house that James dreamed of building, with the children running wild through the place while the grown-ups got drunk on eggnog by the fire. The place would be decked with the gaudiest of decorations, and the sound of carols and laughter would fill the place to the brim.

That Christmas Eve spent spinning fantasies with the young Potter family was one of the memories that Sirius still drew upon when casting his Patronus, and now that Harry had perked up he was determined to do his best to recreate that vision of a happy holiday that James and Lily had shared for their son.

Once Harry and his chums came down from their rooms that night Sirius got them all caught up in a game of charades in the parlor. Ron led his team to victory by somehow conveying the title _The Monster Book of Monsters_ through his wild gesticulations. Now Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had settled down to a game of Exploding Snap, while the twins pored over some dusty old books from his library, and Molly sat knitting in the corner.

Sirius surveyed the scene with a wide grin on his face. Somehow, he had managed to bestow domestic bliss on the whole pack of them. Who would have thought he had it in him?

He heard the front door of the house open with a bang as a gust of cold wind blew in. Despite the hasty shutting of the door by whoever had come in, the damage was already done.

"Freakish creature! Half-blood pauper! Go back to the streets where you belong!" bellowed his mother.

"Sounds like Remus is back," said Sirius cheerily, standing up and heading for the hall to help his friend.

After helping to pull the curtains back over dear old mum, he led Remus down the hall to where they could talk without disturbing her. "Care to join me for a nightcap downstairs?"

Remus nodded. He looked troubled. And who could blame him? After all, he'd just had his first row with his first girlfriend in a decade. This probably called for the strong stuff. When they reached the kitchen, Sirius pulled out the Firewhiskey. Remus didn't object.

"So, where've you been?"

"I had to stop by the Ministry—Werewolf Support Services."

"Oh." Sirius decided not to pry. He wasn't in the mood for depressing topics. "But didn't most of the Ministry folks go home hours ago?"

Remus nodded. "Yes. I went to Hogsmeade afterward. I managed to get a meeting with Dumbledore in the Hog's Head, to report my findings from Austria."

"Hmm," said Sirius, taking a sip of his drink, once more choosing not to pry.

Unfortunately, Remus was in the mood to share. After finishing most of his drink, he said, "There are signs that an underground werewolf criminal organization is throwing its support behind Voldemort." With that, he finished off his drink in one gulp.

Sirius let out a low whistle. "I think you could use another one of these, mate," he said, refilling Remus's glass. Moony had never been fond of discussing his condition and he had outright avoided associating with other Lycans. Sirius had always thought it a bit priggish to be so prejudiced against people who shared his condition, but that was Moony for you. If werewolves really were throwing in their lot with Voldemort, Sirius had no doubt who Dumbledore would call on to look in to it. Poor sod.

"Thanks," said Remus, taking another drink.

"Well," said Sirius, "on a lighter note, we've been having a positively splendid time here without you. You ought to join in the festivities tomorrow. Might take your mind of off your troubles."

Remus just stared off into space. "Humph."

"Humph? That's all you can say, is Humph? Next thing you know you'll be spouting _Bah Humbug_, and seeing ghosts."

Remus finally cracked a smile. "I wonder if Peeves would pay us a visit from Hogwarts, to play the part of the ghost of Pranks Past," he said.

Sirius chuckled. "Now that would be something worth seeing." He went on to chat about gift ideas for Harry, and Remus agreed to go shopping for him tomorrow.

Finally, Remus stood and stretched. "It's been a long day. I think I'll turn in."

Sirius nodded, and followed him up the stairs to the ground level. Remus turned to continue up the stairs, and Sirius stopped him saying, "Mate?"

"What?" he replied, looking back over his shoulder.

"She won't be angry for long," Sirius said. "She cares too much about you to hold a grudge. If you can catch her tomorrow, you'll probably find that everything's already forgotten and forgiven."

Remus nodded, with an uncertain smile. "Thanks."

"No problem, mate."

Sirius turned to head back to the parlor, humming "Deck the Halls". Maybe he could still join in that game of Exploding Snap.

_A/N: _Thanks for reading. Another update will come soon. :)


	8. Chapter 8: The Proclivities of Men

**Author's Note:** I owe a huge thank you to my beta-reader, shimotsuki. :)

**Previously, in "Transformations": **Tonks learns that Ethan was purposefully infected by men involved in the Werewolf brothel business, and that his family and fiancée have abandoned him. Remus visits Sarah Browning of the Werewolf Support Services, and learns more about the Moonies and werewolf brothels. Sirius, happy to have a full house for Christmas, reassures Remus that his argument with Tonks was no big deal.

**Chapter 8: The Proclivities of Men **

Tonks always put off her Christmas shopping until the last minute, and this year was no exception. Saturday was as last minute as she could get, because she was scheduled to work on Sunday and Monday, and was committed to a twelve-hour shift outside the Department of Mysteries on Christmas Eve day.

She spent most of the day getting gifts for all her friends and family. In the late afternoon she waited eagerly for the shop girl to finish wrapping a matching set of candlesticks and napkin rings for her mum. She paid the bill, then cast a quick _Reducio_ on the package to fit it neatly into her bag along with all her other purchases that day. She was finally finished.

She stepped out of the housewares shop and back into Diagon Alley. Everything was covered in a thin layer of white, and the clouds above held a promise of more snow to come. She watched several happy couples pass her by, walking arm in arm with smiles on their cold-reddened faces.

She sighed. She had hoped to make amends with Remus this morning, and had stopped by Grimmauld Place as soon as she left her flat. But she was severely disappointed to find him already out on some errands. She had wanted to share this holiday season with him, but now it seemed that it very well might be after Christmas before she saw him again.

She trudged listlessly down the street, glancing into shop windows to see if any other gifts caught her eye. Then, just as she was passing Flourish and Blotts, the shop door opened, and Remus stepped out onto the street in front of her.

"Eeeee…" she squealed, sliding precariously on the icy street, flinging her arms out in a desperate attempt to regain her balance.

Remus stepped quickly forward, catching her by the forearms to steady her. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes. Yes," she said, getting her feet back underneath her. "I'm surprised to see you here. But it's a good surprise," she added hastily. "I was just wondering if I'd be able to see you at all before Christmas, and then all of a sudden, here you are."

"Yes, here I am," he said with a hesitant smile.

They stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other.

"Look, I…" she started just as Remus said, "I'm so sorry about…"

They caught themselves, and both laughed uncomfortably. "You go first," said Tonks. "Please."

"Nymphadora," he said, "I've been an arrogant prat. I'm so sorry about what I said to you yesterday. There was no call for it. I know you were just trying to help your old friend, but in my own bizarre, insecure mind I somehow twisted your words to mean something that they didn't. It was entirely my fault. I'm sorry."

Tonks smiled. He stood shuffling his feet, his fringe falling in his eyes, looking just like a chagrined little boy admitting to his mother that he had broken her vase. "Thank you. Apology accepted," she said, then giggled.

"What's so funny?" he said, starting to smile in return.

"You're just so cute when you're contrite."

"Cute?" he said, his laugh lines wrinkling and his dimples displaying themselves nicely as he grinned. "Puppies are cute. Kitties are cute. I'm not cute."

"You're right. You're not cute. You're adorable."

Remus laughed, and shook his head. He looked utterly befuddled.

Tonks tilted her head. "You thought it would be harder than this, didn't you?" she asked.

"Harder?" he said, shuffling his feet again.

"The whole…making up after a row thing."

He shrugged, smiling and looking down. "I didn't. Not really."

"Liar," she said with a laugh. "You actually thought I might dump you over a little row, didn't you?"

He looked up, smiling sheepishly. "Maybe. A little."

She stepped in closer to him. "Have I alleviated your worries?"

"Mostly," he said, and then added, "but I could use a little more reassurance."

In spite of the cold, she felt like melting when he looked at her like that. "I think I have a little something that might help," she said softly, sliding up to him, and resting a hand on his chest. She tilted her chin up toward him, and in an instant his lips were on hers. Now _this_ was how things were supposed to be.

"Mmmm…" she said through her smile as they parted. "Did that do the trick?"

"Almost," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "But I still have a few lingering insecurities."

She laughed loudly. "You are incorrigible, Remus Lupin."

"Yes, I suspect I might be," he said, pulling her in for another kiss.

They soon migrated to a warm, quiet booth in the Leaky Cauldron, where they enjoyed butterbeers and conversation. They compared their Christmas shopping efforts, and Remus filled her in on Sirius's newfound Christmas cheer.

"This I have to see," she said. "I'll stop by after work tomorrow."

"Why not come back with me tonight?"

"I wish," she said. She shook her head, and rolled her eyes. "I've got to go to the Malfoys' annual Christmas party tonight."

"So tonight's the night, is it?"

She nodded, with a sigh. The Christmas party was the only social event at the Malfoy home that she ever consented to attend, for the sake of keeping up appearances. This year she had been sorely tempted to skip it, but unfortunately, duty called. This might be her only chance to snoop around the Malfoy home, looking for clues to Death Eater activity. So she had to attend, no matter how miserable it would be.

"I'm sorry," he said, taking her hand.

"So am I," she replied. "I only hope I actually find something incriminating to make it worth my while. Otherwise it will just be a humiliating waste of time."

He squeezed her hand a little tighter. "Are you sure it will be entirely safe?"

She gave him a pointed look. "Remus, my parents will be there. And Rufus Scrimgeour. And Cornelius Fudge. Do you really think Malfoy and his Death Eater cronies will attack me in front of my parents, the head Auror, and the Minister of Magic? I don't think so."

"You're probably right," he said. "I shouldn't worry—but I can't really help myself, you know."

A warm happiness spread through her. Nothing could flatter her more than the knowledge that Remus Lupin couldn't help but worry about her. "Thank you," she said.

"Has Lucius told your mother about us yet?" he asked, looking apprehensive.

"No—or I would have heard from her. But if he does, I'll handle it. I'm not ashamed of being with you, Remus, and I'll be happy to tell that to my mum."

He nodded, with a forced smile, but he looked unconvinced.

"Remus—just because I haven't told my parents about us yet doesn't mean anything bad—and don't try to pretend that that's not what you were thinking, because I know it was."

"Are you sure you're not a Legilimens?" he asked with a teasing smile.

"Yes. I just know you. I'll tell my parents about us when the time is right. And if makes you feel any better, the soonest I've ever told my parents about any of my boyfriends was two months in," she said.

His smile took on a silly quality. "Boyfriend," he said, musingly. "I haven't heard that word applied to myself in a long, long time."

"Well, get used to it. Because if I have anything to say about it, you'll be my boyfriend for quite some time."

They sat smiling giddily at each other, holding hands across the table like a pair of moonstruck teens.

"I like the sound of that," Remus finally said. "And I promise to try my hardest not to start any more stupid rows."

"And I promise not to spring any more unexpected hospital visits to my distant acquaintances on you."

Remus nodded. "Then we're even."

"It seems so."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, "While we are on the topic of your poor friend in hospital, I have something that I need to tell you."

She sat listening in shock as he rehearsed for her the evidence pointing to a group of werewolf criminals throwing their support behind Voldemort. This was worse than she had ever thought possible when Ethan told her about his investigation.

"I can't believe this is happening. How could the Ministry have so completely missed this?" she said.

"Willful ignorance, I suspect," he said.

"Or bribery," she said.

"Bribery?"

She nodded, and proceeded to tell him about Ethan's investigation and what he had learned.

Remus shook his head. "The more I learn about this situation, the more complex it becomes. If Ministry officials are really accepting bribes to look the other way, than we can't rule out the possibility that Voldemort has spies within the Ministry itself. I need to speak to Dumbledore so that we can plan a course of action."

Tonks nodded. "And I'm going to take Ethan's notes to Scrimgeour. Perhaps the Ministry will actually help us out on this one."

"That would be a refreshing change of pace," replied Remus. "When do you have to leave?"

"Soon. I have to change and meet my parents at their place so that we can all go to the party together."

"I wish we had longer."

"So do I," she said. "If I get away from the party early enough, I'll come by Headquarters afterward. I can show off my sexy new dress robes."

Remus's dimples blossomed on his grinning face. "How about you make sure you get out early enough?"

"All right. You can count on it."

"Good."

Tonks just hoped that the kids were all in bed when she got there. She wanted to enjoy Remus's reaction to her dress robes in private.

* * *

Andromeda peered in the mirror, straightening her robes yet again. "She's late. I knew it. I knew she was going to be late. Why does she always do this?"

"Don't worry, Dromeda. She'll be here in plenty of time," said Ted, nonchalantly from behind his magazine. He was lounging in his recliner, with his feet up—undoubtedly wrinkling the back of his nicest dress robes. But Andromeda had long since given up on trying to correct his bad habits. Nymphadora, on the other hand, was still young enough to be impressionable.

Andromeda paced for three and a half more minutes before Nymphadora threw open the front door and walked into the sitting room. "Hiya, Mum. Dad."

Her new green dress robes looked lovely on her, and much to Andromeda's relief, she was once more wearing her hair in a tasteful shade of dark red, cropped close in a pixyish cut. Short hair had always looked good on Nymphadora; it showed off her long neck and small, well-formed ears—some of the only features she had actually inherited from her mother.

Ted closed his magazine and rose to his feet with a grin. "Dora, darling! You look absolutely ravishing!"

"Ta, Dad," she said, embracing her father.

"I'm glad to see you stuck with the red hair," said Andromeda.

"It's my Christmas colors—red and green," replied Nymphadora. "I thought about going the other way round by turning the robes red, and making my hair green, but I finally decided against it."

Ted guffawed. "I would have liked to see Cissy's face if you turned up at her door looking like that!" he said.

"It's not too late," replied Nymphadora. "I could still give it a go."

"No, I think we can do without any last minute changes, Nymphadora," Andromeda said.

Nymphadora rolled her eyes. "I was only teasing, Mum."

"I know." She smiled. It felt wonderful to be sharing such a light, comfortable moment with her whole family. This was the way things with Nymphadora should have been all along. Andromeda was determined to make sure that her relationship with her daughter never again fell into the distant coldness that they'd suffered through for so long. "Now let's get going, shall we?"

They were, as always, among the first guests to arrive at Malfoy Manor. "The place looks fantastic, Narcissa!" said Andromeda, hugging her sister. "Your house elves have really outdone themselves this year."

"Thank you," Narcissa replied. "It took me ages to find the right flowers. They still aren't quite as vibrant as I would have liked."

"Nonsense. They're lovely. You're looking well, Lucius," she said to her brother-in-law. She then turned to her nephew just in time to notice him leering at Nymphadora's chest. She gritted her teeth. Draco had always been far too much like his father, and was becoming increasingly so with every passing year. _He really ought to be neutered before he has a chance to spawn yet another generation of such an unpleasant breed,_ she thought. "And Draco! How you've grown! You must be turning into quite a heart-breaker back at Hogwarts," she said.

Draco smirked. "I do my best, Auntie Dromeda," he said. She gritted her teeth yet again. She hated when anyone but Ted called her by that silly nick-name.

"Nymphadora, I'm surprised to see you alone tonight," Lucius said to her daughter. "I was certain you would bring a date. Surely you've managed to capture the heart of some lucky man by now." There was a certain smug pompousness to his speech that caught Andromeda's attention.

Nymphadora shrugged—another abominable habit of hers—and said, "I've probably captured a few, I'm just not sure that any of them are ready to be run through this particular gauntlet yet."

Lucius raised his eyebrows. "Gauntlet? What an interesting choice of words. Are you afraid your paramour would not leave this home unscathed?"

"Oh, he wouldn't take any lasting injury. But I'd hate to cause a scene that would spoil your lovely party."

"How very thoughtful of you. But entirely unnecessary, I assure you. My party would surely take less damage than your reputation."

"Someday we'll have to put that to the test," said Nymphadora.

"I am at your disposal," said Lucius, with a little bow.

Andromeda sensed that there were layers of hidden meanings and more than a little mockery and malice in the exchange between Lucius and her daughter. The two of them had never gotten on well, and things seemed to be getting worse. She'd have to pull Nymphadora aside later to ask her about it.

"Let's head into the ballroom, now, and let Narcissa and Lucius greet their other guests," Andromeda said to her family, ushering them along.

They soon entered the ballroom, where other early arrivals were milling about. Chairs and small tables ringed the room, and a heavily-laden buffet table lined one wall. A string quartet sat in one corner, playing soft background music, and house elves with trays of punch and champagne were making circuits of the room. As always, Narcissa's party was flawless.

Andromeda began circulating through the room, chatting with her various acquaintances. It had been very difficult to re-establish herself socially following her elopement, and she had not fully managed it until after Nymphadora left for school. Nevertheless, she prided herself on the accomplishment, and made a point of keeping ties with most of the more prominent families in Wizarding England. Nearly all of them would be present at tonight's party. While she worked her way through the growing crowd, Andromeda was not at all surprised to notice Ted and Nymphadora had headed straight for the buffet table._Like father, like daughter. Some things never change._

After nearly an hour, the room was packed. People were talking, laughing, and eating wherever she turned.

Andromeda was talking to an old friend, Tipper Dunstan, when a handsome blond young man walked by. "Brian!" called Tipper, and he stopped.

"Hello, Aunt Tipper," he said. "Enjoying the party?"

"Very much, thanks. Have you ever met Andromeda Tonks?"

Brian stepped forward with a ready handshake, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

"You might know my daughter, Nymphadora, from school," said Andromeda, eyeing the young man up and down. He seemed a good prospect, if only she knew what he did for a living.

He looked puzzled for a moment. Then his eyes lit up. "Oh! You must mean Tonks!"

"I do," she said, wishing, not for the first time, that Nymphadora would stop hiding from her Christian name.

"Yes. She was a year ahead of me, but everyone knew Tonks. She's hard to miss."

"That she is."

"Brian here just got back from two years playing Chaser in the European Quidditch League. He's been given a position on the Pride of Portree," interjected Tipper.

Andromeda beamed. Pro-Quidditch player? That ought to pique her daughter's interest. "That's wonderful, Brian! Congratulations!"

"Thank you, ma'am," he replied.

"Tonks still plays from time to time as well. Last year she was a beater for the Magical Law Enforcement department team in the Ministry recreational league. You ought to go say hello to her. She's over there, by the window," said Andromeda, pointing her out. Thank goodness Nymphadora was looking her best tonight. She seemed to instantly catch his eye.

"I'll have to do that," he said eagerly. "Lovely meeting you, Mrs. Tonks."

He headed out into the crowd, weaving generally in Nymphadora's direction. Andromeda sighed. She doubted anything would come of it, but it was worth a try.

* * *

It took Tonks nearly twenty minutes to escape from the Quidditch-playing dunderhead that her mother had undoubtedly sicced on her. Without fail, every time she attended a large group function with her mother, her mum couldn't resist the temptation of trying to set her up with someone. Tonks wished she would learn her lesson and give it up once and for all.

Once escaping from dimwit Dunstan, she moved slowly around the perimeter of the room, speaking occasionally to old classmates or acquaintances from the Ministry. After about an hour the dancing finally began. Couples made their way onto the dance floor, led by their host and hostess themselves—Lucius and Narcissa.

_That ought to keep them occupied for at least a half hour,_ thought Tonks, moving quickly to the doors and out of the ballroom. It was time for a little snooping.

She moved through the corridor, past most of the party guests, and turned the corner into the passage that led to the other wing of the house. Soon, she was the only one left in the corridors.

She did quick searches of Narcissa's private study and a small reading room using an array of detection spells in combination with some manual searching. She found nothing of interest, and proceeded to her final goal: Lucius's private office.

Tonks approached the tall elaborately carved oak double-doors that she knew led into the office, and carefully rapped on the door three times with her knuckles. There was no response. She grasped the door handles, and turned them. They stopped short, locked. She pulled out her wand, tapped it on the door handle and intently thought, _Alohomora_. With a faint click, the door opened. That was much easier than she had expected.

She sidled into the office, quietly closing the door behind her. The light was dim, coming only from the moonlight filtering through half-closed Venetian blinds. The room was imposing with its high ceilings and large, elaborately decorated furniture. She flicked her wand to light a few of the candles dotting the room. They illuminated walls that were covered with dark wood paneling, and furniture upholstered in the deepest shades of green. Two of the four walls were lined with floor to ceiling bookcases full of impressive tomes, _objects d'art_, and magical implements. She scanned the shelves looking for anything suspicious, but although some of the books and magical items were a bit questionable, none of them were outright illegal.

She turned her attention to the massively elegant desk that stood as the centerpiece of the office. The surface of the desk was immaculate, with not a speck of dust or blot of ink in evidence—not even a few stacks of parchment or piles of scrawled notes like those that littered Tonks's own small desk in her flat. She walked around to the back of the desk, to try the drawers. Two of the drawers opened easily, but contained only parchment, quills, and assorted colors of ink. The other three drawers were locked. Tonks tried _Alohomora_ again, and again they opened easily. There couldn't be much worthwhile in the drawers for Lucius to have taken so little trouble to seal them, but she searched them anyway. She found nothing but financial records and old correspondence.

She turned her attention to the walls and bookshelves, casting various detection spells around the room. As her spells passed over the shelves, they reacted to one section of the wall more thickly covered with tomes than the rest of the room. Her concealment detection spell had caused the area to emit a faint purple glow. There was definitely something hidden behind that wall. She moved closer to it, scanning the area with her eyes, and running her hands along the books. She didn't immediately detect anything out of the ordinary—but she was certain that there was something to be found. She tried a few other simple detection spells, but with no result. At last, she decided to try a simple _Alohomora, _againShe heard a faint click, but nothing had visibly changed. She began running her hands along the books again, pushing and pulling them in turn. As she pulled on a particularly massive volume on the goblin wars, she heard the office door open behind her.

With a gasp of surprise, she jumped back from the shelf. The large tome fell to the ground with a loud bang. _Dammit._

She turned, and raised her eyes to the door. Standing in front of her was Lucius Malfoy himself.

He stared at her with a nasty smile on his face. "What a pleasant surprise," he said.

With a few flicks of his wand, the book soared across the room and into his waiting hands. He arched his eyebrows at the title. "An unexpected choice of entertainment, wouldn't you say."

She cleared her throat. "I was just browsing. I started to feel claustrophobic in that party and I needed a little air."

Lucius placed the book down on his desk, and walked to within a few paces of her. He stopped, looking her up and down in a way that made her feel like she was just another one of his _objects d'art._

"You look very lovely tonight, Nymphadora," he said suddenly. "Not at all what I was expecting."

"It makes my mother happy," she said flatly, ignoring the teasing tone of his voice.

"Ahhh. Yet, you don't always make choices for the sake of your mother, do you? I hardly think that your choice of lovers would please her," he sneered.

"Why don't you tell her and find out?" she retorted.

He smiled at her. "Because it's so much more fun watching you squirm."

She clenched her jaw. Lucius could make her blood boil faster than anyone she had ever met.

"Yes—that's exactly what I mean," he said, watching her.

She shook her head. "I'm through with this. I'm going back to the party." She made to stride past him, but he stepped in front of her.

"Not so fast. I have to ask: what are you doing in my office, Nymphadora?" he said, still smiling at her.

"Take a guess," she said, glaring at him.

Lucius took two more steps toward her, until they were almost touching. He looked down into her eyes. "I know why you're here, Nymphadora, and I assure you—you won't find anything. Do you honestly think I'd be so careless as to leave anything of importance unprotected?"

"I don't expect carelessness," she replied. "Just arrogant over-confidence."

He laughed. "You really are a delightful woman, Nymphadora. So much like your Aunt."

"I doubt your wife would appreciate the comparison."

He looked down at her with a cold gleam in his eyes. "I wasn't talking about my wife."

Comparing her to Bellatrix had long been one of his favorite methods of baiting her, and she was determined not to give him the satisfaction of losing her temper.

"In that case, I'm sure my Aunt would be flattered by the comparison."

His smile widened. He stepped even closer to her. _Oh, Merlin,_ she thought, backing away from him. _He thinks I'm flirting with him again—delusional prig._

"I wish I'd known ages ago that you liked some animal in your man," he growled softly, leaning in toward her. "I'm more than able to provide that type of amusement, if that's what makes you come."

She backed even further away from him, feeling sick to her stomach, and he followed, once more closing the distance between them. "I want to hear you scream my name when I bite you," he muttered.

"You're disgusting," she said.

He chuckled. "I don't know why you persist in denying me, Nymphadora. I could take you places you can't even imagine."

"I've had enough of this," she said, dodging to get past him.

He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her up to his body. He leaned forward, placing his other hand on her hip, and spoke softly into her ear. "You're working for the wrong side, Nymphadora. Your particular_talents_ would be given more respect by another Master. I could help you, you know. I know you're not happy at work. I could improve things for you. I have the Minister's ear. And _someone else's_. All I need is for you to trust me. Give yourself to me, and I'll make all your dreams come true."

Tonks' voice shook as she spoke. "Get your hands off of me."

Lucius laughed softly into her ear. "You don't really want that? Do you?" He moved his hand from her hip to her back, and pulled her tight against his body. "We have unfinished business, you and I."

Tonks felt a surge of rage welling up in her. With a quick twist and a sharp shake of her arms, she pulled free from his grasp and stepped back, raising her wand. "Step aside, Lucius. I'm leaving. Now."

Lucius let out a gale of cold laughter. "As you wish. But don't forget my offer. It won't be good for much longer."

"You can take your bloody offer and shove it up your arse!" she exclaimed.

He only burst out laughing once more, and stepped out of her way, gesturing at the door.

Tonks scowled. She stormed past him out the door, and headed down the hall with his laughter still echoing behind her.

* * *

Andromeda and Ted were enjoying an animated conversation with Janet and Icarus Belby when they were interrupted by Nymphadora.

Andromeda's eyes widened at the fierce look on her daughter's face—whatever could have happened?

"Mum, Dad," she said, her face flushed and her eyes flashing. She looked for all the world like she was about to start hurling curses. "Sorry to interrupt, but I'm leaving now."

"What?" said Andromeda, startled. "Excuse us for just a moment," she said to her friends, taking Nymphadora by the arm and leading her a few steps away. "What's wrong? You look upset."

Nymphadora shook her head. "It's nothing. You know these parties aren't my thing—I've just hit my limit for the night, that's all." Andromeda hadn't seen her daughter looking this flustered since Hogwarts. If she had really just been tired of the party, she would have started mocking it with some juvenile quips—instead, she looked madder than a hungry dragon.

"What happened?" she insisted. "Did someone do something to you?"

Nymphadora clenched her jaw, and tensed up even more than she already had been. She seemed about to burst, but instead of a shout, her voice came out in a tightly controlled denial. "Nothing happened, Mum. I'm just tired. You and Dad have a good time, okay?"

Andromeda nodded. "All right—if that's what you want."

"It is."

They stepped back over to Ted and the Belbys, and Nymphadora gave her father a quick peck on the cheek. "G'night Dad, Mum."

"Are you sure you won't stay and have some more cake with me?" said Ted.

"Not this time, Dad. See you later."

"Good night," said Ted, watching in alarm as his daughter moved stormily through the crowd. He turned to Andromeda, "Is she all right?"

"I don't know," she replied.

Nymphadora got to the doors of the ballroom just as Lucius was coming in through them. Andromeda watched as Nymphadora gave her uncle a glare that would curdle a goat's milk. But the look that he gave her in return was even more disturbing. She had seen that look on her brother-in-law's face before—and it meant only one thing. Andromeda gritted her teeth. She could feel her own anger rising. If that bastard thought he could get away with harassing her daughter, then he was sorely mistaken.

* * *

Much to Tonks's relief, the children had indeed retired to their rooms for the night by the time she arrived at Grimmauld Place. Remus's reaction to her new dress robes was all that she had hoped and more.

His eyes widened, his mouth hung open slightly, and she could swear that she actually _heard_his heart beating faster. She grinned and reached up to pat the underside of his chin.

"You might want to close that before you start drooling," she said.

He chuckled. "Closing it is the last thing I want to do," he said.

"Oh, really?"

"Really." He pulled her in for a kiss. It was just the thing she needed to make her forget her run-in with Lucius. She only stayed for an hour, but it was a very lovely hour. She did her best to conceal her lingering agitation brought on by the party. Remus had too many worries on his mind already—the last thing he needed was to worry about Lucius's proclivity for sexual harassment. Besides, there were far pleasanter things to occupy an evening with Remus than talk of Lucius Malfoy.

The next few days were far too busy for her taste. She was able to swing by St. Mungo's before her shift on Sunday for a short visit with Ethan. He had collected all his pertinent notes for her, and she took them with the promise of showing them to Scrimgeour first thing on Monday.

After her long, rather dull, shift had ended, she stopped by Grimmauld Place. The kids were all still up, so she joined in their Wizard Chess tournament and had to content herself with exchanging flirty glances with Remus all night. They had agreed to keep their relationship quiet around the youngsters—after all, who wanted a pack of bored teenagers prying into their love life? Certainly not her.

On Monday, Tonks made a point of arriving at work early, with all of Ethan's notes in a file, carefully organized and annotated. What he had put together was a very solid foundation for a serious investigation. Tonks felt confident that she would be able to persuade Scrimgeour to look into it.

When she arrived at the office, she marched directly to the desk of Scrimgeour's personal assistant, and requested a meeting at his earliest possible convenience. Less than a half an hour later, she was called in.

"So," said Scrimgeour, gesturing her into the chair in front of his desk. "Tell me what's on your mind."

"I recently stumbled across something that needs to be investigated." She told him everything that she had learned about the werewolf brothels, and handed him the file of Ethan's notes. He flipped through the file as she talked, his face darkening into a frown.

"So," Tonks concluded, "I was hoping we could use this information to open up an official investigation."

"I heard about Mr. Bulstrode's unfortunate circumstances earlier this month, at the weekly Magical Law Enforcement Coordination meeting. Some of the MLE investigators are working in coordination with the Werewolf Capture Unit to locate his attacker. The case isn't in our jurisdiction," said Scrimgeour.

He was evading her.

"What about the women in the brothels?" she asked. "They were also deliberately bitten."

Scrimgeour rested his elbows on his desk, his hands forming a tent in front of his face. He looked over his hands at her with a troubled expression on his face. "We've done some looking into this matter in the past, and it was determined that the issue would be best left in the hands of the Muggle Authorities."

"The Muggle authorites?" she asked incredulously. "What in Merlin's name can the Muggle authorities do about it?"

"The brothels violate several Muggle statutes. It's up to them to shut them down, and once they do, the attacks will undoubtedly cease."

Tonks could hardly believe what she was hearing. "But what about the men who started the brothels in the first place? There's evidence that they're wizards. And if wizards are deliberately infecting women with a magical illness in order to gain control over their bodies, then that is exactly the kind of thing that our department is supposed to fight!"

"Our resources are very limited, Miss Tonks. We have to evaluate our priorities. And this matter is not one of those priorities."

"How long have you known about these brothels?" she asked, the ire rising in her voice.

Scrimgeour lowered his hands to the table. "We first heard rumors of them three years ago."

"Three years! Three bleeding years? And you just let them keep on infecting more poor girls?!"

"Nearly all of their victims are Muggles," said Scrimgeour in a tone that suggested that was answer enough.

Tonks nearly choked trying to hold back the curses she wanted to shout at him. "So that makes them less worthy of our protection, does it?"

Scrimgeour looked away, and shook his head. "Like I said, we have our priorities."

"This is wrong. And you know it."

He looked back at her. "Of course I know it. But if you were a little older—a little less naïve—you would understand that sometimes you have to pick and choose your battles. The directive to stay out of this matter came from Fudge himself, and if I want his cooperation on a number of other important issues, I need to stay on his good side. My hands are tied on this one, Miss Tonks. I'm sorry." He sounded bitter, and frustrated. His feelings of antagonism toward Fudge were well known in the Auror department. _At least he's not completely heartless—just partly._

"So there's nothing at all that you can do?" she pressed him.

He huffed. "I can ride those blokes in MLE to work above their usual standard on the Bulstrode case. Maybe they'll get lucky and take down one of the werewolves in charge of the operation." He shook his head. "That's the best I can do. I'll get them these notes—maybe they'll help move things along."

Despite her frustration, Tonks knew better than to press things any further. She merely nodded. "Thank you, sir."

He gave her a pointed look, and said, "Is that all, Miss Tonks?"

She knew a dismissal when she saw one. "Yes sir, that's all."

**A/N: **Thanks for reading. I plan on updating soon.


	9. Chapter 9: Reunion

**Author's Note: **Thanks as ever to my beta reader, shimotsuki.

**Previously, in "Transformations":** Remus and Tonks make up after their argument, and they exchange information about the mystery surrounding the werewolf brothels. Tonks joins her parents at the Malfoys' annual Christmas party. She searches Lucius's office for Death Eater secrets, and he confronts her with threats and sexual advances. Andromeda notices the tension between Lucius and her daughter. Tonks meets with Scrimgeour about the werewolf brothels, and he says his hands are tied--Fudge has ordered him to stay out of it.

**Chapter 9: Reunion **

On Christmas Eve, when Nymphadora was (yet again) late for dinner, Andromeda refrained from commenting. They had important things to discuss, and she didn't want to start the night off on the wrong footing.

After a pleasant dinner the whole Tonks family settled around the living room fire with tea and biscuits. When Ted finished telling a story about one of his mates who was planning a diving expedition to prove the existence of the Loch Ness Monster, Nymphadora broke in. "Dad? I have an Apothecary question."

"Is it that rash again?"

"Dad! I haven't had that rash in nearly three years!"

Ted chuckled. "Good thing, too, or you'd have a hard time explaining yourself to any bloke you let get past second base."

Andromeda and Nymphadora rolled their eyes in unison, while Ted had a good laugh. "You see what I've put up with for nearly a quarter century now?" said Andromeda, giving her daughter an exasperated look.

"You're a saint, Mum."

"And I," said Ted, taking Andromeda's hand, "am a very lucky man."

Even after all this time Andromeda could still feel a burst of warm tingles when he looked at her like that. She smiled at him as he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Do I need to give you two some privacy?" said Nymphadora.

"Not at all, Dora," said Ted. "So what was that question of yours?"

Nymphadora paused to take another sip of tea. Then she said, "I was just wondering—how much do you charge for a month's supply of Wolfsbane Potion?"

Andromeda's spine stiffened. "Wolfsbane? What do you need Wolfsbane for?"

"It's not for me, Mum," said Nymphadora in an exasperated tone. "Don't throw a fit, or anything. So what do you charge, Dad?"

Ted scratched at the back of his ear, they way he always did every time he had to talk about money. "Well," he said, "I only charge what I have to. I don't raise the price through the roof, like some do."

"That doesn't exactly answer my question."

"What your father means to say is: he sells the potion at cost. It's one of his favorite acts of philanthropy. Which is why we have the distinction of attracting more werewolf clients than any other Apothecary in England," answered Andromeda.

"How many is that?"

"Fourteen," said Ted.

"And it's an extraordinary amount of work to produce fourteen batches of Wolfsbane potion, only to sell it at cost," said Andromeda. "Which I believe is…13 Galleons?"

"Thirteen Galleons, nine Sickles," said Ted. "And I'd give it to them for free, if I could afford it. Bloody Ministry makes laws that practically force them into unemployment, and then won't even provide their blooming potion for them. Damn idiot bureaucrats. And I know that for each of those poor souls that can pull together the thirteen Galleon nine each month, there's two more that can't."

"And then there's the Muggle werewolves," said Nymphadora.

"Muggle werewolves? Surely there can't be many of those, can there?" asked Andromeda.

Nymphadora got a distant look in her eyes. "There's more than you'd ever guess."

"I had no idea," Andromeda replied. "I never thought of it."

"No one ever does," said Nymphadora.

They all sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments. Then Ted spoke up. "So was there someone in particular who has a need of some Wolfsbane?"

Nymphadora nodded. "An old school chum of mine. I ran into him at St. Mungo's earlier this month, when I went in to get patched up a bit. He was bitten last month."

Ted shook his head. "Poor bugger. How's he holding up?"

"Not well. His family disowned him when they found out."

Andromeda gritted her teeth. _That_ was an experience that she knew far too much about. "That's absurd. What kind of parents would turn on their child when he needs them the most?"

"Bad ones," said Ted, pointedly.

Andromeda sighed. She had no desire for this to turn into another of Ted's trademark tirades against her family. "Dad might be able to fit in one more batch of Wolfsbane each month, if he makes Monty bear more of the load that time of month. Do you think Monty is up to it, dear?"

Ted nodded. "He is. And he'd like the extra hours. But if I took on an extra Wolfsbane I might have to raise everyone's price by a sickle apiece to make up for paying Monty for his extra work. I don't know if I could do that to them…"

"Don't worry about it yet, Dad. I'm pretty sure that he can't afford it," said Nymphadora.

"If you find that he can, we'll make it work somehow."

Andromeda had known he would say it. He would say the same if Nymphadora had showed up with a whole pack of half a dozen new werewolves on her heels, asking for the potion. That was his way.

"Thank you, Dad. I'll talk to him about it," Nymphadora said with a smile.

"Anything for a friend of yours," said Ted. "Is he talking to Werewolf Support Services, yet?"

Tonks blinked. "I don't know."

"If he's not, he should. Tell him to get a hold of Sarah Browning—she's the head of Werewolf Support Services at the Ministry. Maybe you can stop by her office for him. Though St. Mungo's has probably already contacted her on his behalf. But it's worth looking in to, one way or another. A good woman, Sarah Browning. She'll take good care of him."

"Thanks, Dad," she said.

A while later, after they had all started getting ready for bed, Andromeda slipped on her dressing gown. "I'm going to go see if Nymphadora is still up," she said. "We need to have a little girl to girl chat."

"All right, love," said Ted, sitting up in bed with a magazine. "Should I come running when I hear the shouting—or should I wait until I you start breaking things?"

Andromeda glared at him. "We haven't had a row in—" she paused, thinking. It really had been a long time. The longest time in between fights since Nymphadora finished school. "Why, I think it's been more than six months."

"Really?" said Ted, looking up from his magazine. "That long? Has a new era in mother-daughter relations really begun?"

"I hope so," she said.

"Well, good luck, then," he said, smiling. "Maybe I won't have to play referee after all."

Andromeda headed down the hall to the room that Nymphadora had called her own since they first bought the house, when she was six years old. She knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in," came Nymphadora's voice.

Andromeda opened the door, and slipped inside. Nymphadora was sitting on her bed, looking at an old book. "Oh," she said, looking up. "Hello, Mum. What's up?"

Andromeda sat on the chair next to the bed, and spoke hesitantly. "I just—there was something I wanted to talk to you about without your father around."

Nymphadora closed her book. "Okay. But it better not be the 'when are you giving me grandchildren' talk, because if it is you had better just leave right now," she said with a lighthearted smirk on her face.

Would the girl never let them have a civilized talk without interjecting her snide remarks? "It's not. I promise."

"Good," said Nymphadora, smugly. She folded her arms, and leaned back against her headboard. "So, what's on your mind?"

Andromeda wasn't sure there was any tactful way to broach this particular subject, so she decided to take the frank approach and dived right in. "Has Lucius been harassing you?" she asked.

Nymphadora's eyes widened, and she blinked in surprise. "What?"

"I saw the way he was looking at you Saturday night—and the way you were looking at him. Is that why you were so upset? Did he try something? Was he trying to seduce you?"

Nymphadora flushed, and looked down, biting her bottom lip. "How did you know?" she asked.

"Because he spent more than five years harassing me with that same nonsense. By now I know all of his looks, and it makes me sick to my stomach to see him giving those same looks to you that he used to give to me. And at his own house, for Merlin's sake. The man is shameless." As she spoke, Nymphadora had looked back up at her with a stunned expression.

"He really used to try to get you to sleep with him?"

"Don't look so surprised. He's a scoundrel at heart, and always will be. Some things never change," replied Andromeda.

"I always thought it was just me," said Nymphadora, softly.

"Unfortunately, no. And we're not alone. He's a notorious flirt."

"I wouldn't call it _flirting_." Nymphadora folded her arms across her chest with a sullen look on her face.

Andromeda shook her head. "Merlin knows why, but there are some women who seem to _enjoy_ his attentions."

"I can't imagine why. Does Aunt Cissy know about all this?"

Andromeda shook her head. "I have no idea. I've never dared bring it up. To tell you the truth, I'm not convinced that he's ever really cheated on her."

She could tell from the look on Nymphadora's face that she wasn't so sure.

Andromeda looked pointedly at her. "I know my sister. She'd never tolerate any actual infidelity if she knew of it. But I don't think she'd discourage him from his rather twisted form of flirting, either. I think she considers it a prize, to have a man who is still sought after by so many other women."

"That's sick."

"That's life as a pureblood. All the old families are riddled with this sort of corruption and eccentricity. Lucius's particular proclivity is playing mind-games with people. It makes him feel powerful. And the mind-game he chose for me was sexual harassment. He knew I'd never hurt my sister by telling her about it, so in his mind that gave him free rein to go out of his way to make me as uncomfortable as possible. Apparently, he's decided to do the same thing to you. Bastard."

She looked sadly at her daughter, who still looked slightly dazed. "How long has this been going on?" This was the real question, and she was afraid of the answer. Nymphadora had started to refuse to be a part of visits with the Malfoys when she was fifteen. It couldn't have been going on for _that_ long, could it?

Nymphadora looked down again. "A long time," she replied.

_Oh dear._

"Has he…did he ever…do anything to you? Did he ever hurt you?" Andromeda asked, holding her breath.

Nymphadora shook her head. "No. He tried, a few times. But I never let him."

_Thank Merlin for that, at least,_ thought Andromeda, letting out her breath. _No wonder she hated me. I forced to her go to that house. I forced her to be near that man. And all the while, he was harassing her behind my back. Damn him!_

"I'm so, so, sorry," she said.

"No, Mum. You don't need to say that."

"Yes, I do. I should have noticed. I should have done something…"

"This is exactly why I never told you. Because I knew you would blame yourself. But it's not your fault. It's no one's fault but his."

As grateful as Andromeda was to hear this, it did little to alleviate her sense of personal responsibility. "Well," she said at last, "one thing is certain. Lucius Malfoy will never again step foot in this house. And I will never again set foot in his. If Narcissa wants to see me, she'll have to come here by herself."

Nymphadora nodded. "We'll all be better off without him around."

Andromeda felt another pang of guilt. "Yes, we will. I'm sorry I didn't see that sooner."

"Don't worry about it, Mum." Nymphadora reached out to take her hand. Andromeda treasured the spontaneous touch of comfort and affection. She was always envious when she saw her friends casually embracing their daughters. It was easy to take that sort of thing for granted.

"Thank you, for telling me the truth."

Nymphadora smiled slightly. "And thank you for telling me that I'm not alone in this. How in the world did you ever get him to leave you alone?"

The corners of Andromeda's mouth turned up. "Have you ever heard of the limp-noodle hex?"

Nymphadora snorted in laughter. "No—but I like the sound of it!"

"I'll have to teach it to you sometime."

"Yes, please!"

After a short laugh, Andromeda decided it was time to bring up the second reason for her girl-talk. "I also wanted to ask," she said, "have you been able to work out a time with Dumbledore yet for me to see Sirius?"

Once again, Nymphadora looked as if she had been taken by complete surprise. "Oh. No. Not yet," she stammered. "What I mean to say is: we're still working out the details."

Andromeda clenched her teeth. "You haven't even asked Dumbledore yet—have you?"

"Mum—there have been a lot of really important things happing in my life lately…"

"More important than helping me reunite with the cousin that was as close to me as a brother?"

Nymphadora froze, and her defensive posture relaxed. "No," she said. "I'm sorry. I got busy, and preoccupied, and I forgot. I'm sorry."

Andromeda nodded tersely. She wanted to get angry, but that would do nothing but ruin the new rapport that they had only just achieved, so she held it in.

"I'll speak to him about this the next time I see him. I promise," said Nymphadora.

"Do you think you could try a little harder to see him a little sooner?" asked Andromeda.

"Yes," replied her daughter, meekly. "Yes, I can."

"Good. Thank you."

Nymphadora nodded.

"Well," said Andromeda, rising, "this has been a good talk. Thank you."

"Yeah, it has. Thanks Mum."

"Goodnight, Nymphadora."

"Goodnight."

* * *

The Christmas morning trip to St. Mungo's had gone smoothly, and now the whole lot of them, all wearing their new knitted jumpers from Molly, stood gathered around Arthur, visiting amiably. Remus looked around the ward and saw a pale, dark-haired young man sitting in a bed across from Arthur. He was staring at the large pack of friends and family with a look of longing on his face. This was undoubtedly Nymphadora's friend, Ethan.

He slipped quietly out of the throng, and strode across the room to Ethan's bed.

"Hello," he said. "You must be Ethan Bulstrode?"

The young man tensed up, looking at him suspiciously. "Yes, yes I am."

"I'm Remus—Tonks's friend."

"Oh!" said Ethan, brightening considerably. "I didn't know she had told any of her friends about me."

"Why wouldn't she?"

He shook his head, and shrugged a little. "I don't know. I just wouldn't expect that she'd want to admit to being friends with…someone like me."

Remus looked at Ethan quizzically. "She didn't tell you about me, did she?"

Ethan looked taken aback. "No—was she supposed to?"

Remus smiled. The utter absurdity of the accusations he had made to Nymphadora about her using Ethan to prove herself to him was now obvious. If she had really planned on dragging him in here to show off her charity to other werewolves, she doubtlessly would have told Ethan all about him, making promises to bring him in. And now, it seemed that out of respect for him she hadn't yet even mentioned his name. Remus shook his head. "No. She wasn't supposed to. I just thought she might have. You see—she is one of my dearest friends. And I—like you—am also a werewolf."

Ethan's eyes went wide. "I didn't...You don't…I never would have guessed. You don't look like what I'd expect a werewolf to look like. Not at all."

"I think you'll find," said Remus, "that there really aren't any werewolves that look like what you'd expect—with one or two possible exceptions."

Ethan appeared to digest this information for a minute. "So, how did you and Tonks get to be friends?"

"We met through another mutual friend." He paused, and smiled. "I know you must be thinking she's the sort of girl who likes to seek out werewolves out of some sort of sick fascination, or something. But I assure you, she is not. We actually became friends before she knew about my condition."

"And she didn't get—you know—frightened off?" asked Ethan, incredulously.

"It would take a great deal more than a once a month malady to turn Tonks against her friends," said Remus, feeling suddenly more grateful for her, and for the other friends that had stood by him over the years.

Ethan's eyes fell. Remus couldn't fathom how difficult this must be for him. Remus had at least always had his family, and for most of his life had had a number of friends as well. But this poor young man had been abandoned by everyone who should have been his most stalwart supports. No wonder Nymphadora felt so compelled to help him. If they didn't, who would?

"I know it doesn't seem like it right now," said Remus, "but it will get easier. Once you adjust to things, and start understanding how to deal with the different reactions that you'll get from people, it does get easier."

Ethan looked back up. "How long have you been… you know?"

Remus glanced down at his hands. "I was bitten when I was six years old."

Ethan's eyes grew wide. "Six years old? That's practically your whole life."

Remus nodded. "If you think this is terrifying for you—just imagine how terrifying it was for a six year old child. But I was fortunate—my parents stood by me, and did all that they could to help me over the years. I understand that you weren't so blessed."

Ethan sank bank against the wall. "I was always the black sheep of my family. They were probably glad to finally have an excuse to be rid of me."

"Old blood, the Bulstrodes, aren't you?"

"Too old. Decaying. And full of exaggerated pride."

"I have a friend from a family like yours. He left home as soon as he turned seventeen and gained an inheritance from one of his uncles," Remus paused, uncertain if this story was really as applicable as he had hoped. "And… in the end…he suffered for his differences, just like you are suffering for yours. It's a difficult lot, leaving your heritage behind you."

Remus hesitated again. It was difficult to know just what to say. Would his words bolster Ethan up, or would they leave him feeling worse than before? "Try to keep in mind that without so-called 'black sheep' like you and my friend, the old blood families will never change and our society will always be controlled by their outdated ideas. We need people like you, for the sake of future generations. Your struggles won't be for nothing."

"Now you're just being patronizing. I am neither a child, nor an idealist. I understand perfectly well that sometimes people struggle and suffer and no one ever benefits from it. Sometimes suffering is just suffering. Besides, I was never much of a rebel—just a misfit."

Remus smiled. "You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to patronize. I'm not very good at this sort of thing. I suppose I don't really know what will help. Do you have any suggestions?"

Ethan stared quietly across the room. Finally, he asked, "Will you tell me about the transformation? What it's really like?"

Remus took a deep breath. "You sure you really want to know?"

Ethan looked into his eyes and gave a firm nod. "Yes. Please."

Remus took another deep breath. He should have known this was coming. But there was no getting out of it. So he sat up straight, and prepared to take on the unpleasant task of telling Ethan the truth about what he would now experience every full moon for the rest of his life.

* * *

Tonks found that Christmas morning with her parents went smoothly, and she actually enjoyed her time with her mother more than she had in years. She was starting to see that they might not be as different as she once thought. Her mum and dad were sad that she had to leave early in the afternoon, but she had things to take care of.

First, she paid Cory and Danny a quick visit to deliver some presents. Geoffrey looked as if he had grown two inches since she last saw him. After an all too brief hour with her friends, she excused herself. She needed to get on with some business.

Her next stop was Saint Mungo's, to offer some Christmas cheer to Ethan.

"Happy Christmas!" she said, striding up to him with some brightly wrapped packages and a large gift basket.

She watched in pleasure as Ethan unwrapped his gifts—an assortment of clothes and household items. "I thought you could use some things to get you started off once we get you into your own flat."

"Thank you," said Ethan, looking morose. Tonks hadn't expected him to be terribly chipper, but it was still disheartening to see him so depressed on the holiday.

"I wish there was more I could do," she said. "I know today must be especially hard for you."

"It is. But really, you're doing more than I ever would have expected from anyone. It means a lot. Thank you." He still sounded sad, but also sincere.

"You're welcome," she replied. "And I wish I could bring you better news from the Ministry, but my department head insists that your case is out of our jurisdiction. He did promise to pester the boys over at Magical Law Enforcement. We'll just have to wait and see if anything comes of it."

Ethan grimaced. "That's as much as I could've expected."

"Have you been in contact with Werewolf Support Services?" Tonks asked.

"Yes," he said with a nod. "Sarah Browning has been to see me three times. She's trying to find a flat for me, and a job, but she hasn't been having much success."

"Maybe I'll swing by and see if there's anything I can do to help her."

"Thank you. And your friend came by."

Tonks sat up straight in surprise. "My friend?"

"Remus Lupin. He is a friend of yours—isn't he? I though you must have asked him to come by," said Ethan.

"Yes. He is. And I told him about you, but I didn't ask him to come by. He did that on his own." And she was surprised he had. She couldn't restrain her smile, knowing that Remus had followed her lead and quietly visited Ethan on his own.

"I'm glad that he did," said Ethan. "He finally gave me some frank answers to questions that everyone else kept avoiding. And he agreed to come here for my first transformation."

Tonks was completely taken aback. She had once asked Remus why he didn't transform at the free facility provided at St. Mungo's, and had been treated to a half-hour tirade on the horrors of those communal transformations. It was an act of amazing compassion for him to undertake on Ethan's behalf.

"Is it cowardly of me," asked Ethan, "to want someone I know to be with me for my first transformation?"

She shook her head. "No," she said. "It's not cowardly. It's just human."

She talked with Ethan for nearly an hour more, doing her best to cheer him. But, if her afternoon went according to plan, he would soon have something much better than her company to cheer him. Though Remus's visit hadn't seemed to cheer him much, at least it had seemed to help him understand and accept his condition better.

After leaving St. Mungo's she went back to her flat to change. She put on her most sedate and professional gray business robes—the ones she had worn to her interviews for the Auror training program four years ago—and changed her hair to a respectable ebony bob. It was time to pay some unexpected visits.

Her first stop was a stately London townhouse in a neighborhood full of old wizarding families. The door was opened by a house elf in a neat tea-towel toga.

"Hello, are Mr. and Mrs. Bulstrode in this afternoon?" she asked.

"The Master and Mistress are busy with the holiday festivities," squeaked the elf. "May I ask your business here?"

She nodded. "I'm Auror Tonks, from the Ministry. I need to speak to them about an important matter of business."

"I'll inform them at once," said the elf, "Please come in."

The elf left her waiting in the foyer, while it went to collect its masters. She restlessly shuffled her feet on the marble floor, and stared around the high-ceilinged entryway. It was nearly as grand as Malfoy Manor, and she knew that was the standard most of this lot compared themselves to. Chances were the Bulstrodes had been among the Malfoys's plethora of guests the other night—they looked like the type Lucius would be willing to associate with.

A few minutes later a short and thick swarthy black-mustached man strode down the hall toward her and a thin, willowy woman with streaks of white in her brown hair pattered nervously behind him. These were undoubtedly Ethan's parents.

"I am Donald Bulstrode," said the man as he approached her. "What can I help you with today, Auror Tonks? What could be so serious that it brings you here on Christmas day?" His tone was one of frustration at having his holiday interrupted. He stopped a few paces in front of her, and folded his arms in what Tonks assumed he meant to be a threatening manner across his broad chest.

_Heartless bastard. Yes, it's a horrible inconvenience to have your Christmas interrupted, but it's of no consequence that your son is withering from loneliness in St. Mungo's while you sit in your fancy house, sipping mulled wine._ "I'm sorry that I had to use my official position to gain entry, Mr. Bulstrode—Mrs. Bulstrode," she added, nodding to the willowy woman now hovering behind her stocky husband. "But my business here is not official—it is more of a personal nature."

"Personal?" said Mr. Bulstrode. "What personal business could you possibly have with us?" He looked her up and down with a sneer of contempt.

"I'm a friend of your son, Ethan," she said flatly.

Mrs. Bulstrode gasped, and raised a hand to her mouth. Mr. Bulstrode raised a hand sharply, to silence his wife, and then glared at Tonks. "He is no longer my son. We don't speak his name in this house. Now please leave my home."

"Not until you agree to go speak to him," she said, stepping forward. "Just once—go speak to him. It's inhuman of you to abandon your son like this without ever once even talking to him, to say goodbye."

"I have nothing to say to that creature," snarled Mr. Bulstrode. His wife whimpered. He continued, "He brought this on himself, and now he has to face it by himself. I told him not to meddle where he had no right to meddle, and he turned his back on me."

"So that gives you the right to turn your back on him?"

"Yes!" The look in his eyes was fierce. Another man, who looked very much like Ethan, had stepped into the hall, and a swarthy young girl had followed him. Would Ethan's siblings be willing to see reason, even if his father did not? Or maybe, his mother would listen.

"Mrs. Bulstrode—surely you can't just leave your son like this?" said Tonks, imploring.

"How dare you address my wife!" said Mr. Bulstrode, just as Ethan's brother began striding up the hall toward them, crying, "Leave my mother out of this!"

Mrs. Bulstrode now stepped forward, looking Tonks in the eye. With a quavering voice, she said, "My son is dead. He is dead. Please leave us alone."

Mr. Bulstrode wrapped a protective arm around his wife. "Leave my house. Now. Or my son and I will throw you out."

Tonks looked around at the angry faces staring her down. It was hopeless. They had given up on Ethan completely.

She shook her head, turned on her heel, and without another word stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. She walked briskly down the street away from the house, taking deep breaths of the cold air to try to calm the rage that she felt building up inside her chest.

How could anyone turn their back on their own son so abruptly? She was beginning to understand why her father was still so bitter toward her Black grandparents.

After a few minutes of walking off her anger, she was able to calm down enough to start thinking about her next visit. Hopefully this one would go better than her first had.

A few Apparation points later, she found herself striding down a snowy path to a large country house surrounded by a frosty glade of trees. It was the Prewett house. She had come to find Ethan's fiancée—Beatrice Prewett.

This time her knock was answered by the sound of barking dogs, and pounding feet. A pair of boys that looked to be around ten and thirteen pulled the door open to stare at her with sparkling eyes.

"Wotcher, boys," she said, smiling. Already this house was looking more promising than the last. "Is Beatrice here?"

The littler boy nodded solemnly, and the older said, "Yeah. She's helping Mum make dinner. Who are you? One of her friends from London?"

"Yeah. More of a friend of a friend, really. I need to talk to Beatrice about something very important. Could you go fetch her for me?" she asked.

The little one nodded. "I'll get her!" he said, scampering off down the hall, with two floppy-eared dogs loping behind him.

"Want to come in, then?" said the older boy, standing aside for her.

"Sure. Thanks," she replied, stepping inside the cozy entryway, and letting the boy close the door behind her. This house was far less imposing than the Bulstrode townhouse had been, and seemed to be decorated as much for comfort as for appearances. Yes—she was having a _much_ better feeling about this visit.

The boy stood near the door, staring at her. "Having a good Christmas?" she asked him.

He nodded. "Yeah. Not as many presents as last year, though. Mum says it's 'cause these ones were bigger presents. I got a broom. A Cleansweep. I'm going out for Quidditch next year, so I need to practice."

"Good luck with that," she said. "The Cleansweeps are good brooms."

He shrugged. "Better than using my dad's old broom."

A pretty raven-haired young woman now emerged from a door at the end of the hall. She had the same sparkling eyes and ruddy cheeks as her brothers, and Tonks thought that she recognized her as being a year or two behind her at Hogwarts.

Beatrice's face took on a puzzled expression as she reached Tonks. "Hello," she said. "I'm sorry—I feel like I should know you, but I can't quite remember your name."

Tonks held out her hand, and Beatrice shook it politely. "I'm Tonks. We were in school at the same time."

"Ohhh," she replied. "I remember you. On the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, right?"

"That's me," said Tonks.

"So what brings you here today?" asked Beatrice.

"Actually," said Tonks, "it's about Ethan."

Beatrice went immediately stiff, and her face grew pale. "Go back to the kitchen, Bert," she said to her younger brother.

"How come?"

"Just go!" she insisted.

"Fine." He slouched off back down the hall.

Beatrice turned back to Tonks, looking her in the eyes. "Is he… has anything happened to him?" she asked, quietly.

"Nothing new," replied Tonks. "Why haven't you been to see him, Beatrice?"

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I've wanted to," she said. "Every day, I've wanted to."

"Then why haven't you?"

Beatrice looked down. "At first, I was too afraid. But then I went to the library to do some reading on his…condition. And some of what I read made me even more afraid. But some of it made it sound like most of the time he would still be…normal."

Tonks nodded. "He is normal. He's still the man you love, Beatrice. And he still loves you. It hurts him more than anything that you haven't been to see him yet."

The tears started to trace their way down Beatrice's cheeks, and her face was turning red. "I know, I know," she said. "I don't know what to do! I still love him so much—but daddy never liked him, and now he says that there's no way a daughter of his will be allowed to marry a werewolf. He and mum keep saying that I should just forget him, and move on. But how can I move on? I love him! Oh God, I don't know what to do!"

She sank into a chair near the door, and buried her face in her hands.

"You need to come see him, Beatrice," said Tonks, leaning over the sobbing young woman, and placing a hand on her shoulder. "You need to see him again, and decide for yourself. You can't let your parents make up your mind for you."

The girl continued to sob into her hands. Clearly, she wanted to go see her fiancé again, but Tonks wasn't sure if she had the spine to stand up to her parents.

A middle-aged woman now emerged into the hall. Her eyes went wide at the sight of Beatrice sobbing by the door. "What in Merlin's name is going on here?" she said, hurrying toward them.

Tonks stood up straight to face her. "I'm a friend of Ethan's," she said, "and I came to tell Beatrice how much he wants to see her again."

"How dare you!" said the woman. "How dare you do this to her on Christmas day?"

"How dare you stop your daughter from seeing her fiancé on Christmas day when he is alone and miserable in a hospital ward!" replied Tonks, the hot anger welling back up in her chest.

"That man is no longer my daughter's fiancé, and she is better off without him," said Beatrice's mother.

"Oh Mama," sobbed Beatrice. "Tonks is right. I need to go to him. Please!"

"You will do no such thing!" said the woman. She turned back to Tonks. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave now. You've addled my daughter's brain enough for one day."

Tonks bit her lip to stifle the sharp retort on her tongue. Instead, she drew a card out of her pocket and pressed it into Beatrice's hand. "This is my address," she said. "If you ever need anyone to talk to about all this, please don't hesitate to contact me. And don't forget, you're a grown woman. You can make up your own mind."

"Are you going to leave, or do I need to call my husband?" asked Beatrice's mother.

"Don't trouble yourself. I'm going." She turned to Beatrice one last time. "Don't ever let anyone make your decisions for you, Beatrice, or you may regret it for the rest of your life." With that, she turned and let herself out the door.

Tonks went straight home to her flat, and collapsed on her sofa. This was shaping up to be one of her worst Christmases ever—second only to the Christmas when she was fifteen and her mother had forced her to spend the day at the Malfoys' house. Draco had pestered her ceaselessly, and when she finally escaped from him, Lucius tracked her down to give her a "special" gift in the form of a slinky nightgown and a not-so-chaste kiss under the mistletoe. No, this Christmas couldn't top that—but it was coming close.

Beatrice seemed like a nice enough girl, but she didn't appear to have much of a spine. The likelihood of getting her to defy her parents to reconcile with Ethan didn't seem very high. All of Tonks's great plans to bring Ethan some Christmas cheer in the form of visits from his family and fiancée appeared to have collapsed in utter failure.

Molly had invited her to Christmas dinner at headquarters, but she had declined, expecting to be at St. Mungo's witnessing a happy reunion. Tonks supposed she could still go, but she wasn't really in the mood for a house full of happy Weasleys. Instead, she decided to stay home, and wait for Remus to come over later as they had planned. She went to her refrigerator and pulled out a carton of store-bought eggnog. She poured herself a glass, spiked it with some booze, and raised it in a mock toast. "Here's to happy families," she said to herself.

After finishing her drink, she curled up on the sofa in front of her fire, and soon was fast asleep.

**A/N: **Thanks for reading! I love hearing back from you, and I appreciate all your comments.


	10. Chapter 10: Holiday Surprises

**Previously, in Transformations: ** Remus visits some old friends in Switzerland, and receives a mysterious Christmas package from them. Andromeda plans her annual New Years Eve party. Tonks befriends a newly bitten werewolf, Ethan Bulstrode. She discusses him with her father, who prepares Wolfsbane Potion for several werewolves every month. Later, Remus visits Ethan and agrees to help him with his first transformation. Tonks visits Ethan's family and his fiancée on Christmas in an attempt to end their estrangement with him. The visits don't go well.

**Chapter 10: Holiday Surprises**

Remus knocked at Nymphadora's door for the third time. He was beginning to worry that she might not be home at all, when he heard a thud, followed by a muted, "Damn coffee table!"

He smiled. She was home after all.

A moment later the door swung open. He barely had time to register the mussed black hair before she stepped forward and flung her arms around his neck, nearly knocking the packages out of his arms.

"Oh Lord, am I glad to see you," she said. "I've had the most miserable day."

"Miserable? At Christmas?"

She nodded, wearing a little pout on her face. "Miserable," she repeated.

"Well, let's see if we can do something to make it better, shall we?"

"Oh, yes!" she said, pulling him inside, and then managing to shut the door and kiss him at the same time.

He pulled away with a chuckle. "It's not that I don't appreciate your enthusiasm, but perhaps I should put these down first?" He indicated the packages in his arms.

"Sorry! I didn't even notice them," she said. The smile on her face seemed like a good sign that she was already feeling better. He was glad he had that effect on her. "What have you got there?"

He headed over to the coffee table he had heard her cursing a few minutes ago, and set his items down one by one.

"These," he said indicating a thermos and a tin, "are mulled wine and ginger biscuits, courtesy of Molly."

"Yum," she said, flopping down on the sofa, pulling open the tin, and popping a biscuit in her mouth. "I love Molly's biscuits. She's the only one I know who makes them better than Granny Tonks."

"And this," said Remus, sitting down beside her and handing her a wrapped package, "is for you. Happy Christmas."

With a giddy smile, she took the heavy package out of his hands, and ran her hands over its smooth surface. "I'm getting a _book_ vibe," she said.

"Open it," he prodded, the corners of his mouth turning up. "I hate waiting."

"I never took you for an instant-gratification sort of bloke," she said.

"Only with you," he replied. "Open it. Please?"

"Oh, all right—but only because you said the magic word." She slipped her fingers under the edge of the paper, and gave it a good rip. Soon, all the paper had been tossed to the ground, and in her lap sat a large volume—Shakespeare's Complete Works, bound in a vivid scarlet leather cover, embossed with gold lettering.

"I thought you should finally have your own copy," he said, watching her carefully, "and as soon as I saw this one, I knew it was the one for you."

Her smile was radiant as she caressed the soft cover, and flipped through the pages. She looked back up at him, her eyes shining. "It's wonderful, Remus. I love it." She hugged the book tightly to her chest. He felt his pulse starting to speed. She was such a dazzling picture of disheveled, carefree beauty. And for some extraordinary reason, she wanted to be with him. It was something that continued to amaze him on a daily basis.

She laid the tome down on the coffee table, and sprang lightly to her feet. "I have something for you too!" she said as she skipped over to her desk.

She retrieved a present wrapped in rather garish purple paper bedecked with ice-skating penguins, and skipped back, handing it to him and sitting back down beside him, biting her lower lip with a look of excited expectation.

Remus began to carefully unfasten the flaps of paper, neatly and slowly unfolding them.

"Oh, come on!" she said, bouncing up and down in her seat. "It's a present—you're supposed to rip!"

"Not all of us are rippers, Nymphadora. Sometimes, taking things slowly and carefully can lead to very pleasing results."

She grinned. "Very funny. Now open the bloody present."

With a grin, he pulled the paper off of his present with one quick tug. They must have been thinking alike when they were shopping, because she had also gotten him a book. This one was the complete novels of Jane Austen. He smiled up at her, with an eyebrow raised in question.

"I've always thought it a travesty that you've never read Austen. So now that you own her complete works, you have no more excuses. You've simply got to read them."

"And I shall—with the greatest pleasure. They can't be _that_ bad, if you like them so much."

"They're not bad at all, nitwit."

"We'll see." He smiled. "Thank you. Very much."

"You are very welcome."

They leaned toward each other in a way that was becoming increasingly natural, and kissed. No matter how many times they'd done this in the past few weeks, he still felt a thrill of wonder every time her lips touched his. He wound his fingers through her hair, and pulled her closer, opening his mouth wider, tasting as much of her as he could. He was rewarded by a small moan of pleasure emanating from her throat. He took his time exploring her mouth with his for another minute before ending the kiss, and staring down into her eyes.

"I hope you're not miserable any more," he said.

"Not at all," she replied. "You were just the cure that I needed."

"What had you so upset?" he asked.

She sighed. "I'm just a meddling fool."

"What do you mean?"

"I went to see Ethan's family and his fiancée, to try to convince them to come visit him."

Remus didn't need any details to know how that had gone—the look on her face was enough.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, cradling her against his chest.

"I'm the one who's sorry," she said. "I should've known that catching them by surprise on Christmas day wouldn't be the best tactic. The fiancée was almost convinced, until her mother came along—and that was the end of that. But Ethan's family was horrible. They preferred to think of him as dead than to accept him for what he is now. On top of it all, it made me start thinking of how it must have been for my mother when her parents did the same thing to her. I just couldn't get it out of my head. It was a very depressing way to spend my Christmas evening."

He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. "It was wonderful of you to try, though. Most people wouldn't have done that much for a friend, let alone someone they hardly know. You're an amazing person, Nymphadora Tonks."

"You're pretty amazing yourself," she replied, looking up at him, and tracing the shape of his face with her fingers. "When I went to see Ethan, he told me about the talk you had with him. I think it really helped. And the promise you made him is… I know how you feel about the St. Mungo's transformation room. It's… an amazing sacrifice for you to do this for him."

Remus felt slightly embarrassed. He had never planned on telling Nymphadora about his promise to Ethan, but he should have known that Ethan would tell her. "It's the least I can do," he said. "Like you said: if we don't help him, who will?"

She gave him one of the quirky, crooked smiles that fascinated him endlessly. "I'm glad you've finally come around to my way of thinking," she said.

"You can be very persuasive, you know," he said, leaning back in toward her face.

"Oh can I?" she asked.

"Yes. Very," he murmured, his lips once more brushing against hers.

Her response was immediate and enthusiastic. It wasn't long before he was drawn into the most passionate embrace that they had yet shared. Most of the next half hour was spent in a delirious blur of tangled limbs, exploring lips, and caressing hands.

About the time his hand was sliding up under her bra and his lips were planting a line of kisses down her long neck, Remus realized that if he didn't stop this soon he would very likely lose control and do something he would later regret. With a twinge of disappointment he withdrew his hand from its warm haven and pressed his lips against hers one last time before sitting up to look down at the glorious figure now laying on the sofa beneath him.

"God, you're beautiful," he said hoarsely.

She beamed up at him with a look of radiant innocence that entranced him.

"This is the best Christmas ever," she said.

"Then you're exceedingly fickle. And far too easy to please."

"No," she said, scooting up into a sitting position. "I think that would have pleased any woman with a pulse." She leaned forward to place a kiss on his neck, then slid down to snuggle her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and held her tight.

After a few more minutes of relaxed cuddling, he agreed to start reading Jane Austen aloud with her. A few chapters into "Sense and Sensibility" he was forced to admit that it was far better than he had expected—though reading it with Nymphadora curled in his lap might have impaired his judgment.

Finally, after a few more exquisite kisses, he reluctantly bid her good night and headed home to Grimmauld Place. As he walked down the stairs from her flat, it occurred to him that he was in very grave danger of falling very deeply in love with her. The thought sent a shiver of fear down his spine—but also a tingle of excitement.

Nymphadora was like no other woman he had ever known. What if, after all these years, he had finally found in this vivacious young Auror the woman he could truly share his life with? With that extraordinary thought spinning in his mind, he stepped into the nearest alley, and Apparated back to headquarters.

He was grateful to make it up to his room without encountering anyone else—he had no desire to answer questions about what he'd been doing that night.

When he reached his room, Remus realized that he had one last thing to do before going to bed for the night. The present that Sophie and Laurent gave him before he left Switzerland sat, still wrapped, on his desk. With a smile on his face, he picked it up and began to pull off the ribbon.

Every year for Christmas they gave him a new pair of novelty pajamas. The most daring had been what looked like a pair of plain black pajamas, but when he put them on he discovered that they were charmed to make his flesh appear to vanish, making him look like a skeleton with a normal head on top. He had some good fun scaring Sirius with them this past Halloween.

Most years the pajamas were simpler—just regular fabric printed in silly patterns. Last Christmas they gave him tan pajamas covered with a pattern of anthropomorphic dinosaurs playing Quidditch. He was eager to see what they'd chosen for him this year.

As he pulled the paper away from his new pajamas he began to laugh. They were light orange, covered in vivid green runes spelling out ancient incantations and charms designed to enhance virility and sexual stamina.

Remus sank into his chair, still laughing. There was no way they could have bought the pajamas between when he told them about Nymphadora and the next morning when Sophie gave him the present. It must have been intended as a not-too-subtle hint that he ought to start going out more often. They must have been deeply pleased with themselves when they found out he was already involved in a romance.

He held the pajamas for a few moments, smiling. He couldn't help but wonder if they really _would_ enhance his sex drive. And would that be a very good idea right now? After a moment's hesitation, he stood to shed his clothes and don his new pajamas. He'd take his chances—at least for tonight.

* * *

Tonks sank down onto her cushions with a happy sigh. Was it really just one month ago that she was all but convinced that he would never fancy her the way she fancied him? She'd never been happier to be wrong.

She picked up the thermos and emptied the last of the now-cooled mulled wine into her glass. Not bothering with a warming spell, she sipped on the pleasantly spiced beverage, turning the happy thoughts of Remus over and over in her mind.

When her wine was gone, she headed for the bathroom and began to get ready for bed. Just as she finished washing her face, she heard a knock at her door. She had no idea who would be visiting her this time of night. _Did Remus come back for more?_ Her heart quickened at the thought. _ But how much am I really ready for? What if it _is _him?_

She hurried to the door, and whispered the brief password that made the top half of the door transparent from the inside. She was stunned.

The person standing nervously in front of her was Ethan's fiancée, Beatrice Prewett.

Tonks opened her door. "Beatrice? What in the world brings you here this time of night?"

The shivering and red-faced young woman looked at her with pleading in her eyes. "I've been to see Ethan. You were right about everything. He's still the man I love—I never should have let my parents keep me away from him. He shouldn't have forgiven me for abandoning him like that…but he did." He eyes shone with moisture, and the corners of her lips turned up in a small smile. "He forgave me." The power of that simple statement was palpable.

Beatrice took a deep breath, and curled her fists at her sides. "I'm determined to marry him, and I told my parents. We had a huge row. It was horrible, and I can't live in that house any more. I…I didn't know where else to go. Please…can I stay the night?" The words came pouring out of her mouth in a torrent, and she seemed on the verge of tears.

Tonks blinked in surprise. Then she looked at the three trunks piled awkwardly behind Beatrice. She was serious. She'd left home. _Something I said today actually worked?_

Tonks nodded. "Yes. Yes! Come in."

Beatrice entered, and Tonks levitated her trunks in after her. As soon as she closed the door she was shocked to find Beatrice throwing her arms around her and pulling her into a tight hug.

"Thank you so much! I don't know if I'd ever have gotten up the courage to go see Ethan if it wasn't for you. And you have no idea how much your visits have meant to him. You're like our own personal angel. Thank you."

Tonks patted her back awkwardly. "I was just doing what needed to be done. It's no big deal."

Beatrice backed up and clasped Tonks' hand in her own, staring earnestly at her. "But it is. I've never known anyone who would do so much to help virtual strangers. I've never met anyone like you before."

Tonks shuffled her feet and looked at the ground. This was getting more than a little uncomfortable for her. She was only doing what any decent human being would do—nothing more, nothing less.

She forced a smile, and said, "I'm sure you've met plenty of people who'd do what I did—they just didn't know what's going on with you and Ethan, or one of them would have stepped in before I did."

Beatrice shook her head. "I don't think so."

Tonks couldn't take much more of this flattery. "Let's see if you still feel that way about me after you've seen more of my abominable housekeeping. Come on. Let me show you the guest room."

She took the young woman by the arm and led her back to the cluttered spare room, wondering how long it would take to make the place habitable. Maybe it was time to brew some strong tea—they'd need it.

* * *

"So," said Nymphadora looking earnestly up at Remus, "do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

Remus swallowed, and looked down at his hands. The right thing? For whom?

Taking in the rebellious fiancée of an impoverished werewolf might be a laudable act of charity that could be seen as "the right thing," under certain circumstances. But was it really the right thing to do for the Order? Nymphadora had succeeded in entangling herself in the lives of two strangers with uncertain political allegiance at a very politically fragile moment. How could she possibly conceal her involvement in the Order from the girl if they were living together? Not to mention the potential implications to Nymphadora's relationship with _him. _After all, her flat had been one of their last places to find any privacy.

He cleared his voice uncomfortably, still trying to think of a suitable reply. "Well—of course you…it's…this is a wonderful thing that you're doing for them. It's very…humanitarian of you."

The tilt of Nymphadora's raised eyebrows clearly told him that he hadn't done a very good job of hiding his mixed feelings.

Sirius let out a low barking chuckle from where he was sitting nearby. "Humanitarian? You're so full of shite sometimes, Moony."

Remus glared, folding his arms across his chest. "I meant what I said. This is a very compassionate and generous thing for Nymphadora to do, and I respect her very much for doing it."

Sirius snorted.

Nymphadora turned toward him. "If you have a meaningful comment to make, make it. Otherwise, shut up."

Sirius lowered his feet to the floor from the coffee table where they'd been propped, "I'd be happy to interpret Moony's dithering for you, if you like."

"Sirius!" said Remus.

"We may as well let him get it over with, because once he's determined to say something there's no stopping him." Nymphadora sat down on the edge of a console table, looking resigned.

"Smart woman you've got here, Moony," said Sirius. Remus's frown deepened. Sirius looked back at Nymphadora. "What Moony was really thinking when he said you were being _humanitarian_ was that you just gave up the last of your privacy to a virtual stranger, who, for all we know, could be the biggest busy-body gossip known to man, and her prying could lead to the exposure of the entire Order and the ruination of all our work. Not to mention the fact that next time you want to shag you'll have to do it in that dank basement that he calls a flat because I know for a fact that neither of you can cast a proper silencing barrier if your lives depended on it, and Molly would flay you alive if she heard you getting up to something with the kids here." He grinned and glanced up at Remus. "How close did I come?"

An icy silence fell over the room and Sirius, still grinning, glanced back and forth between the Remus and Nymphadora.

Remus took a deep breath. "I think Tonks and I would appreciate some privacy _right now_, Padfoot. Would you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes?"

Sirius sighed and rolled his eyes, but rose to his feet. "I guess I hit a little too close to the mark for his taste," he said to Nymphadora on the way out. "Don't be too hard on him. I happen to agree—letting that girl into your life and into your flat will bring you nothing but trouble. Don't say I didn't warn you." With that he sauntered out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Remus looked back at Nymphadora. "I'm sorry. He was out of line—"

"No. He wasn't." She looked up at him with nervous eyes. "I've compromised the security of the Order, haven't I? He's right. I know next to nothing about Beatrice, and only slightly more about Ethan. And now I'm in over my head." She leaned forward and rubbed her forehead. "Why do I always find myself in situations like these?"

Remus went to sit next to her on the edge of the table. "Because you sometimes act with your heart instead of your head. It's one of your more endearing qualities."

She sighed, and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Thanks. But this really is a muddle I don't know how to get out of."

He wrapped his arm around her waist. "We might not _need _to get out of it. After all, Ethan's werewolf troubles could provide the lead we need to find out exactly how the Moonies are connected to the Death Eaters. We seem to be playing for the same side, at least for now. They might even be interested in joining the Order themselves."

She smiled. "You're right. I should start asking some subtle questions to see if they might have leanings in that direction. They could be good allies for us. After all—they have no reason to remain loyal to the pure-blood agenda."

"My thoughts exactly," he agreed, hoping that they were right. "But do be careful about how much you say in front of them before you're sure of their loyalties."

"I will. Don't worry."

She threaded her fingers through his, and squeezed. He squeezed back and leaned against her, breathing deeply the sweet scent of her hair. It was impossible to feel pessimistic at times like these. In the past month she'd made him believe that almost anything was possible.

* * *

Sirius paced the kitchen restlessly. He was beginning to regret the lengths he'd gone to to push Remus and Tonks together. Now that they were a couple they always wanted to hide away by themselves. A man could only take so many hours of hanging out with bored teenagers. He needed some adult company.

Just a few days ago he'd resolved to talk to Tonks and Dumbledore about letting him reunite with his cousin Dromeda, but in all the hustle and bustle since Harry and the Weasleys arrived he hadn't found the time. Now that Christmas was over, he would have to _make_ the time.

"If you don't vary your course a little you'll start wearing a groove in the floor," came a voice from the doorway.

Sirius halted his pacing to smile at Bill as he entered the kitchen.

"You got anything to drink in here?" asked Bill, striding over to the cupboard where the liquor was kept.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "I thought that _I _was the only one who was allowed to start drinking before dinner?"

"Normally, yes," said Bill with a wry smile, pulling a bottle of firewhisky out of the cupboard. "But today…today it's my turn." He went to another cupboard for a glass. "Care to join me?"

"I'll never turn down a drink," replied Sirius.

Bill nodded and got a second glass. He set them on the table and poured drinks for them both. They sat down together, and Sirius watched, bemused, as Bill finished his drink in one large gulp and poured himself another. Something wasn't right with the man, today, and Sirius thought he knew what might be going on.

"So," said Sirius after a sip of his own drink, "are you and Fleur having problems?"

Bill huffed and took another drink. "Is it that obvious?"

Sirius cocked his head and shrugged. "I don't know what else would have you drinking at five in the afternoon."

Bill nodded, finishing his second drink. "I was supposed to leave for France this afternoon to meet her family. I wrote her this morning to tell her that I couldn't leave my dad yet—that my mum and the kids still needed me. But…she wasn't too happy about it."

Sirius frowned. "You'd think she'd be more understanding, given the circumstances."

Bill sighed. "That's part of the problem—she didn't exactly know the circumstances."

"You mean…you haven't told her about—"

"The Order. Why my dad was attacked. How we're fighting a secret war. None of it. I hadn't told her one bloody thing." He poured another drink, and shook his head. "We talked over the floo just now, and argued the whole time. She knew I was keeping secrets from her—hiding things. She thought I was cheating on her."

"Why didn't you tell her the truth? If she's really the woman you say she is, she can handle it." He'd never seen Bill so rattled—he was usually as cool as ice. He must really be in love with the girl.

Bill shook his head. "I did tell her the truth. This afternoon I told her everything. I told I'd been trying to protect her. I thought that would fix things, but it only made it worse. She was angry at me for not telling her the truth sooner, and offended that I didn't seem to think she could be a valuable member of the Order."

Sirius whistled, and leaned back in his chair. "You've got yourself into quite a pickle, haven't you, mate?"

"I certainly have. And the ironic part is, the same night my dad was attacked I was in a bar with Tonks trying to recruit an old friend of ours for the Order. And he has a fiancée that he wanted to protect, and I told him that she was probably stronger than he gave her credit for."

Sirius chuckled. "So you're feeling like a bloody big hypocrite about now, aren't you?"

Bill smiled. "The biggest." He raised his glass. "To hypocrisy, in all its glorious forms."

Sirius raised his glass in turn. "To hypocrisy."

The tipped their glasses, and drank.

* * *

The next few days went by in a blur of activity for Tonks. She worked every day leading up to New Years, and spent most of her free time helping Beatrice settle into her flat. She barely managed to squeeze in a short visit with her best friend Cory, and a few stolen hours with Remus.

She learned that Beatrice had spent the last two years working part-time at a renowned bakery and pastry shop in Diagon Alley, and urged her to ask for a full-time position. If she was serious about marrying Ethan, they would need the steady income.

One day at lunch, just as she was finishing a quick visit to Ethan, they were joined by a cheerful older woman who introduced herself as Sarah Browning of Werewolf Support Services. "I'm so pleased to meet you!" Sarah said, shaking Tonks's hand vigorously. "Ethan has told me so much about you, and everything you've done for him. You're an absolute angel—his guardian angel."

Tonks smiled and looked down, slightly embarrassed. "I didn't do _that _much."

"Oh, but you did! You've been amazing." replied Sarah. "In fact, there's something I'd like to discuss with you, if you have the time?"

"I'm afraid that I was just on my way back to work. But I need to talk to you, too. Maybe we can set an appointment sometime in the beginning of January?"

"That would be wonderful, dear. Just contact my office and we'll set up a time."

Tonks was glad for a chance to meet with Sarah. From what Remus had said, she and her assistant could provide invaluable information about the mysterious Moonies. Plus, she might have some valuable tips for helping to get Ethan and Beatrice on their feet again once Ethan was discharged from the hospital.

In spite of her busyness Tonks made the time to send a note to Dumbledore, asking if she could meet with him about her mother and Sirius. She wasn't going to let her mother down on this one. What had been happening between them lately had been opening her eyes to a whole new side of her mother's character, and Tonks was even starting to think of her a friend. It was an unexpected but highly welcome development, but Tonks couldn't help but wonder how long it could possibly last. She and her mother had been at odds for so many years that this new phase in their relationship seemed almost too good to be true.

Then, on the evening of the thirtieth, Tonks was ready to recover from her long day at work with a warm bath when the floo flared up and her mother's head appeared. "Nymphadora? Are you there?"

Tonks sighed. She wasn't sure she had the energy right now to talk to her mum. Maybe she could keep it short. "I'm here," she said, kneeling in front of the fire. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to remind you to clean those new dress robes so that you can wear them to the party tomorrow."

Tonks frowned. "You honestly think I wouldn't remember to clean my robes?" For some reason her mother's reminder was particularly irritating tonight—largely because Tonks really _had_ forgotten to clean the robes. But she wasn't about to admit it to her mum.

"No, dear. You just looked so lovely in them, I was hoping you would wear them again."

"I'll wear them. And they'll look just as nice as they did for the Christmas party. All right?"

"That's wonderful. We're really looking forward to having you."

"I come to the party every year, mum."

"I know, but there's no reason why I can't look forward to it, is there?"

Tonks rubbed her forehead—it was beginning to ache.

"Tonks? I was about to make myself some dinner. Would you like some?" asked Beatrice, stepping into the room. As soon as she noticed Andromeda's face in the floo her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh! I didn't know you were in the middle of something. Sorry!" She scurried off to the kitchen without another word.

"Who was that?" asked Andromeda. "Do you have company?"

"That was my new flatmate," replied Tonks, frustrated. Now she would have to spend another ten minutes explaining her new situation when all she wanted was to get in her bath.

"Really? I thought that after Serena moved out you swore you'd had enough of trying to share your flat with another woman and declared that you'd never do it again."

Tonks squeezed her eyes shut, trying to quiet the pounding in her head, and took a deep breath. In a flash of inspiration the perfect reply came to her. "This is a special circumstance. She's engaged to a man her parents don't approve of, and they've thrown her out of the house."

Tonks watched as her mother's eyes widened in surprise before softening with sympathy. Tonks couldn't help but think that her mother, of all people, could relate to what Beatrice was going through.

"That's very generous of you, dear," said Andromeda. "How long will she be staying with you?"

"I'm not sure. I don't think they've set a date yet. And they need to find their own place to move into once they marry. I'm certainly not letting out my spare room to newlyweds—I'd never get any sleep."

Andromeda's face wore a thin smile. "Very true." She paused. "What is her name?"

"Beatrice. Beatrice Prewett."

"Ah. I knew her parents—they were two years ahead of me at school. Her father is a first cousin to your friend Molly Weasley. Perhaps Molly would take an interest in helping Beatrice. You should ask her."

Tonks was always amazed at her mother's vast knowledge of the blood ties of the various pure-blood families in England. Tonks wondered why her mother even bothered learning it all, or if she was just genetically predisposed to care about that sort of thing. If that was the case, those particular genes clearly hadn't been passed down. "I didn't know that, Mum. Thanks. I'll talk to Molly about it next time I see her."

"You're welcome. If you don't mind my asking—what were her family's objections to her young man?"

This was the question Tonks had been hoping her mother wouldn't ask. As much as she didn't want to answer, it was best to get the truth out now so there wouldn't be a row about it later. But she decided to build up to the crux of the matter slowly. "He…just lost his job. And he had a falling out with his family that left him disowned and penniless."

"Oh, my. That's terrible."

"It's even worse, Mum. You see…the reason he was disowned is because…" she took a deep breath, "…because he was bitten by a werewolf last month."

Andromeda's eyebrows shot up toward her hairline, and even through the green glow of the floo she seemed to grow a little paler. "His family must be old blood to cast him off like that."

Tonks nodded. "They are. The Bulstrodes."

"Ah." That seemed to be enough of an explanation for Andromeda. She was silent for a moment, and then asked, hesitantly, "And Beatrice…she's still certain that she wants to marry him?"

Tonks frowned at the tone of thinly veiled incredulity in her mother's voice. She couldn't possibly be taking Mrs. Prewett's side, could she? "Of course she's certain. She still loves him. He has a disease—it hasn't changed who is as a person."

Andromeda shook her head. "Perhaps not, but it has placed him in a position where he will very likely never be able to provide for a family—not to mention that it puts his loved ones at risk every full moon. Beatrice needs to prepare herself for a difficult life. She's going to have to be the bread-winner of the family, and the nursemaid as well."

"Mother! That's—" Tonks began indignantly.

"That's the plain truth of it, Nymphadora," interrupted Andromeda. "And if you took the time to think about it rationally, you would see that I'm right. Taking on a marriage to someone suffering from an incurable and highly dangerous malady would be a difficult undertaking for anyone, no matter how prepared. The emotional and financial strain will be enormous. And bringing children into such a household is an even more difficult matter. I'm sure you've heard the rumors of difficult pregnancies and children inheriting wolfish tendencies from their werewolf parents."

"Now that's just superstitious nonsense!" Tonks had had about as much of this conversation as she could take.

"Are you so sure?" replied Andromeda. "So few werewolves dare have children that it's hard to know the truth of it. If I were you, I would advise your friend Beatrice to take her time, and have a nice long engagement. That'll give her time to get a better idea of the kind of burden and risk she'll be taking on. By the end she just might change her mind."

That was the last straw. "No! She won't! She loves him. She loves him so much that chose alienation from her family to be with him. He's the most important thing on Earth to her. She will _not_ change her mind."

"We'll see."

Tonks jumped to her feet, her hands clenched in fists at her side. "I'm through with this conversation, Mother. Good night." Without waiting to hear Andromeda's reply, she spun on her heels and stalked toward the bathroom.

Her head was pounding and her mind was spinning. How could her mother be so prejudiced? So close-minded? So infernally frustrating?

She knew the peaceful rapport with her mother had been too good to last. And now it had come to a screeching halt in the worst possible way. _Is that the way she'll feel about Remus when she meets him? Or will it be different when it's her own daughter who's in love with a werewolf?_

_It might be even worse._

Those thoughts continued to percolate in her mind all night long, even after she fell asleep.

Early the next morning, right before work, she stopped by Grimmauld Place. Remus was alone in the kitchen, and rose to his feet with a grin when she walked in.

"This is a pleasant surprise," he said.

She halted in front of him, fidgeting. "Do you have some dress robes?"

He opened his mouth in bewilderment. "Uh…I'm afraid not."

"Do you think you could borrow some from Sirius or Bill, just for tonight?"

His brow furrowed. "For tonight? Why?"

"Remember that New Year's Eve party that my parents are throwing, and how I thought it might be too early to introduce you to my parents?"

"Of course."

"Well, I've changed my mind. I want you to come to the party with me."

**Author's Notes: **Thanks for reading! I'm going to warn you right now that it will probably be a long time (more than a month) before the next update. I'm really caught up in some original writing projects right now, and those tend to take precedence. But I'm not giving up on this tale of mine, so keep watching for it. It'll be up eventually. :)


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